Jet Black Heart
by longliveFinchel
Summary: There's no end in sight. No matter how much she wants there to be. Her days seem to grow darker. Her sadness seems to linger on. For the longest time, she's been treading along the same path; barely hanging on by a thread. Then, he's waiting in front of her locker with a schedule in hand, speaking some nonsense about being on the welcoming committee. AU/OOC/DARK THEMES
1. Prologue

**So, here it is! The prologue to my new story! Before you get started reading, there are a few points that I want to touch.**

 **First and foremost, this story is going to be a little different than my other stories.. This story is going to be somewhat on the DARKER side, theme wise. Hence, the title. With as much sincerity as possible, drug mentions, profane language, topics of suicide/ self-harm, brutal violence, and depression will be included in this story. I'm just offering a warning before you start to read the story. I'm going for a more of an angst-filled Fanfic this time.. I'm not saying that there won't be good chapters with good times or that they won't get a happy ending, i'm just saying that it's not going to be all rainbows and butterflies.. So, if you don't think you will like that, I don't really think this story is the right one to read.  
**

 **Also, its going to be a little more on the AU side of things. I want to pay a tribute to my favorite show ever, but at the same time i want to remain original.. Some of the characters may act OOC while others will be exactly like themselves on the show.**

 **There, all of the negative stuff aside... I'm so excited to finally be uploading this story that's been in my mind for months! I really hope that the first part of this AN didn't discourage any of you.. I'm so excited to see what you all think!**

 **I'm going to also be writing in some of my own characters, which will hopefully give me the chance to make things more original.. Along with Finn, Rachel, and all of them, they're going to be getting their own stories, and love interests, etc.. So, i'm excited for you guys to read that as well.**

 **Lastly, I have to give all credits to Ryan Murphy and the writers, producers, etc... I do not own Glee, nor do i own any of the characters. The only ones i own are my own..**

 **Well, that pretty much wraps up all that i have to say. Anything that i may have left out or need to explain in the future will be placed at the top or bottom of future chapters.. I look forward to this new journey that i'm beginning with all of you and really do hope that all of you enjoy this one!**

 **Let me know what you think! :)-Kat**

* * *

 **Prologue**

 _45, 30, 25, 10, 5, 0…_ Once the yellow car came to a complete stop, it was parked and turned off. A small click in the air indicated the opening of the door. Then, out came the driver; a short brunette with amazement painted on the youthful features of her face.

The scenery was down-right breathtaking. It always had been; from the variety of beautiful wildflowers spread out for miles along the forest floor, to the vast source of tall green trees that towered over her. Her heart settled itself into a slow and steady pace; one that it hadn't been in years. All the while, her muscles loosened up, telling her that she could relax after years of her mind telling her she couldn't.

She could finally drop the weight that had made a home on her shoulders. Even if it was only for the time being. This place filled her up with emotions she hadn't experienced since she was young and ignorant. Those feelings of hatred and rage that she had been harboring, for the world and everyone in it, were slowly, but surely starting to seep out of her mind as she felt the wind against her porcelain skin.

She inhaled slowly, smiling with satisfaction. Despite the enormous amount of pollution produced by the outside world, she never had a doubt that this place would provide her with the fresh air that she needed. Tugging at the two ends of her black unbuttoned cardigan, she hugged herself, desperately seeking warmth. It was a little odd, seeing as it was the beginning of August and the air was already very cold. However, her preference for colder climates was very strong. So, she couldn't really complain.

Taking two steps, she began to make her way into the large forest that she imagined to be close to heaven. As she looked around, she tried to analyze what had changed since the last time these leaves crackled underneath her shoes. A lot, she told herself.

She had been gone for a very long time; a very long time of regret, pain, and malice. But, never did she forget about this place. She was glad that she could finally return to the forest that she once called home. She felt a sense of comfort revisiting the place that once held all of her joy, happiness, and laughter.

Since then, she had been through a whirl of events that scarred her life. She wanted nothing more than to forget every single thing that had happened and she just wanted a chance to escape from all of the noise. So, as she knelt down and picked a flower off the forest floor, she promised herself that she'd rekindle the love that she once had. She'd make it the safe haven that it was before when her life spun way out of control; the safe haven that she so desperately needed in her life today. Especially, if she was going to have to face the small town that awaited her return just a few short miles outside the forest.

Placing the small purple and white wild flower behind her ear, she looked up to see the top of the tree right before her. In one small motion impossible to any human, she was hugging the highest branch close to her chest, nearly 500 feet off the ground, as she focused her vision as far as it would go. The first sight that caught her eye was the large mountains in the distance, scattering themselves along a large water fall that seemed to have no end.

She laughed to herself when memories of her father taking her to this exact fall for sight-seeing resurfaced. She loved the way the water hit her toes when it seeped in through the foot of her dress. But more than that, she loved her father's undying passion for the falls. He always saw the smaller things in life with a magnifying glass. That's where she learned to see the beauty in it all; to take comfort in the stillness.

She closed her eyes and took in the soothing wind that blew above these trees. She wished, more than anything, that she was that little girl again; holding her father's hand as he guided her with a compass in the other.. If only that version of herself would see the girl that she had become today, she thought to herself. She had no idea how her life had become so screwed up. But, now, that same little girl who used to be filled with so much joy was now the girl who saw everything with hatred, and anger, and disappointment. And through everything, she only had herself to blame. And _him_ ; she would go to her grave hating him for causing all of this...

As usual, she got caught up with the demons running around in her head. She took a sharp inhalation, followed by a loud exhalation. Clearing her mind, she decided to just stick to her original purpose of being here. Not to get caught up in her past, but to focus on the beautiful nature that surrounded her; the beautiful nature that she had gone so long without being able to see.

Slowly, she perched herself on the branch that she previously stood on. The sky was awfully grey, but it was starting to darken out, so she thought she'd sit and watch an imaginary sunset. She took in the peace and silence the outside world failed to provide her with; the only noise being the chirping of birds in the distance, the water from the falls pouring over the mountains, and the very distant sound and smell of her biggest temptation. However, she didn't want to talk about that right now.

If she could, she'd stay here forever. And don't think that she wouldn't try. But, for the time being, she only rested her head against the branch she was holding onto and closed her eyes again, taking in the amazing feeling against her face. Soon enough, she drifted off, using the wood she was clinging to as a pillow…

After about an hour or two, she woke up to complete darkness. The only source of light that she could see for miles was the small town on the other side of the mountains and the stars and moon in the sky. A minute of confusion played itself before realization dawned over her. Quickly standing up on the branch, she made a swift motion before she was back on the ground.

She already knew that she was going to get it when she arrived at the new home they insisted on showing to her. She ended up talking her way out of it once they arrived, like she did with every other decision that they made for her. That or she ended up ignoring them and going about things on her own. This was one of those moments. They wanted her to help unpack moving boxes and get to view the home that had happily been purchased in the Chicago penthouse they shared earlier last month before they let them go about on their own explorations.

Yes, they were loaded with money. But, that had never been a big thing in their household. Of course, they liked to take advantage of it, especially by the yellow Ferrari she had received on her birthday last year. But, mostly they used it to help others. Hell, she couldn't even count on her fingers and toes collided how many times she was forced to put on a dress and heels with a smile for all of the charity events that they hosted.

She just didn't see the point in any of it. Giving to the less fortunate was a great thing of course, but she didn't know why they insisted on smiling away and befriending everyone in the communities they'd lived in over the years that she had been with them. She knew for a fact that if just one of these people knew the secrets that they'd kept behind closed doors, charity would be the last thought on the mind. And, they knew that. But still, they smiled and waved and pretended that they were all one big family; turning their heads away from her in disappointment when she tried to remind them that everything was the exact opposite.

So, it was safe to say that she, in fact, did not want to take extra time to see their big, plantation-home-looking, show-off mansion that they had purchased, right in the middle of town; next door to the mayor himself. Instead, when they arrived she placed most of her things by the door, and bolted before either of them could tell her anything.

She remembered that she left her phone in the car. So, on the short trip back, she began estimating the number of calls, voice-mails, and texts that she would receive. Once she reached the yellow automobile, her guess was around 25, but knowing them, she'd reach for a good 50 times.

Once she felt that it was time to return to the real world and drive away, she stood outside the unlocked car and gathered one last glance. She then proceeded to make a temporary farewell before getting into her car and buckling up. Turning on the engine, she placed the car in drive and headed towards the new town that she had been acquainted with only hours ago, and the old town that she had spent so many years dreaming of escaping.

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 **Hope this is a good start...**


	2. Restart Or Repeat?

**Chapter 1**

With arms outstretched, her fingers found themselves delicately rested upon the black and white keys. The slightest motions were used to press down and listen to the sound that it produced. Closing her eyes, she started to speed up her tempo; hitting every note to perfection. One of the many sweet melodies that she had composed over the years filled the room.

She loved the piano. She had learned to play when she was a young girl, and ever since it had been her favorite thing to do. She loved the way that such beautiful music could come of it just by the smallest movement of her fingers. She found serenity in it.

It also helped her to get rid of all the emotions that she kept bottled up inside. In her music, every key held a different story. These stories expressed the darkest places that she had been in her lifetime. Some days proved harder than others when she'd sit at the bench for hours with a pen and a music sheet. But, on other days, she didn't even need the music sheet. She'd sit at that piano and play it out with every ounce of energy she had until the keys became blurry and her cheeks became damp. A brilliant example was the day the town gathered to lay her father to rest.

She paused for a moment with something else catching her attention. Looking over to the drapes she'd opened wide when she woke up this morning, she noticed the sun seeping in. It was a rare sight, she had to admit. Sunshine wasn't a normal thing to see in Crystal Willow. The town was usually covered in a constant blanket of clouds, rain, and thunderstorms.

Smiling at the beautiful glow of nature into her dark room, she began to press harder on the keys, speeding up the melody. Before long, the sweet music turned violent.

She couldn't even continue onto the next verse before the door to her room flew open. Behind it stood a tall girl with brown eyes and long, messy blonde hair. Her youthful facial features were arranged into what looked like sleepiness and aggravation. As Rachel continued to play on, she walked toward her in a pink tank top, colorful pajama shorts, and white bunny slippers. She thought she looked ridiculous, but, she wouldn't dare say it to the blonde's face.

"Rachel, do you have any idea what time it is?" she asked with pure frustration behind her words.

"It's five thirty," Rachel replied as if the girl really wanted to know. "And, you should be up already, Olivia."

"No, Will and Emma made it specifically clear last night that school didn't start until eight and that we didn't have to leave until seven-thirty. I was planning on getting at least another half an hour of sleep in. But, I can't do that because you're busy going all Dracula on that thing." She replied, pointing to the piano. "Now I'm going to have bags under my eyes on the first day. No telling what they're going to think of me…" she trailed off on her own thoughts.

"Well, maybe if you learned to get up early like everyone else in this house, we wouldn't have that problem." Getting up, Rachel headed to her bathroom to begin getting ready. "Close the door on your way out." The last sound she heard was Olivia's exasperated scoff before a door slammed and the room returned to the complete silence it had been before she got on her piano.

Running the Walmart-bought brush through her long dark brown locks, her tired eyes examined her demeanor. Fear seemed to present itself. Quickly looking away, she returned to the strokes she applied through her hair. At least the melody on the piano provided a distraction. Now, not even the brushing of her own hair could get through to the war going on in her mind.

She wasn't ready for this. She'd never admit it, but the new school, town, people, and new everything scared her to death. It always had. However, it was just the way that they lived. They'd pick a town to settle in for a few years, get accustomed to the living, places, and people and then be off onto the next town before people could get too cozy with them. They'd lived this way for as long as she remembered; since they'd found her all those years ago.

Today would mark her first day at Crystal Willow High; a day of new teachers, classmates, and more lessons that she had basically memorized from being taught over and over again. She did all of it so much, that she found it amusing. They all did. Nothing was funnier to them than having to live the life of the average, everyday human. They even found themselves forcefully pushing down the food that the cafeteria cooks prepared to put on a show from time to time.

She just hoped that today could maybe be a different experience for her. Maybe today she could go about on her own without being bothered by the student body like she had been at all of the previous schools they'd placed her in. Maybe she could blend in just as good as the others. Not receiving the normal "freak", "loser", and "loner" remarks from before.

She could only hope. She didn't know what the future held.

Examining her full body appearance one last time, she smoothed out the outfit that she had chosen right after she woke up. She decided that it was good enough and not worth a second guess. Setting down the brush, she turned off the light to the bathroom and headed back into her room. Her heart nearly fell to her shoes when a black-headed girl was sitting on her freshly-made bed.

Placing a hand on her heart, she sighed and whispered. "You scared me." Resting her arm against the wall, she looked out the window in desperate need for a distraction. She hated sharing conversation with the others in this house. And they knew this. "The door was closed for a reason, Santana."

"Will and Emma sent me up to check if you were awake. I don't know how they didn't gather that when you were banging on that piano, but I'm just doing what I was told." She said, getting up and walking closer to Rachel. "But, honey, the only thing that's scaring anyone is that outfit. You don't honestly think you're walking out the house in that, do you?"

"What's wrong with my outfit?" Rachel asked; mostly to amuse Santana. She'd choose burning at the stake over listening in on her sister's fashion advice.

"You look like you're going to a gamer's convention. I mean, what's up with those glasses? You don't even need them." she asked, pointing to the Ray Bans on Rachel's face.

"I don't know. People are like wearing them again from the 50's. They're in style or whatever." She replied.

"Well, they look ridiculous on you; especially with that outfit. Were you even fully awake when you put it on?" she asked, examining Rachel's Star Wars t-shirt, jeans, and black converse. "I blame it on the lack of expertise. I really need to stop focusing on Olivia so much. You need my help more."

"Do you really think that fashion is the most important thing right now?" She interrupted, stepping closer in the girl's direction. "Santana, when we step out of this house, we are going to have a world of judgement on our shoulders. I can already hear the whispers. So, excuse me if I'm a little too preoccupied to focus on my wardrobe."

"Well, maybe people wouldn't be able to judge you if you don't give them reasons to. Rach, this outfit is screaming for attention. And I'm not going to be seen with someone who wears Star Wars t-shirts. So, just let me help you. We can make you fabulous!" Santana smiled, clapping her hands together.

"I don't think you understand." Rachel stopped her in a harsh tone. Turning to look Santana dead in the eyes, she spoke slowly; letting every word make its way to Santana's head. "I don't care."

Not even waiting to see Santana's expression drop as she knew it had, she turned back to the window and watched the trees in their backyard sway to the slight breeze outside. Silence fell over the room for a moment. She'd hoped that Santana would have gotten the memo and left. But, she felt her presence next to her, so she knew otherwise. After what seemed like forever, Santana spoke. This time, her voice was in a whisper and less enthusiastic.

"You can't shut us out forever."

Sighing, she could only look to the ground. She wished they could read her mind. She wasn't shutting them out, she told herself. They were just pushing too much for unrealistic expectations.

Silence filled the room once more. Rachel knew that Santana was feeling more awkward than ever, and by the hopes that Rachel had, she'd walk out in a minute or two; getting fed up with it all. Instead, she was the one who became fed up.

"Close the door on your way out." She said, not interrupting her view out the window. Waiting, she listened to the loud, defeated sigh from the girl.

Thinking that she'd given up and walked out the room, Rachel tensed up when Santana rested one of her hands on her shoulder. Looking at the slightly taller Latino, she waited for her motives to be revealed.

"I know that there's a lot of stuff on your conscience; stuff from your past that, even though you refuse to tell any of us about, has put a huge scar on your heart. And, I know that you're hurting." She smiled, sincerely. "But, just know that I'm here for you and I have been since the first day that we found you. So, if you need anyone to talk to or to just be there for you, don't hesitate to come and find me. Okay?"

Waiting for anything to leave Rachel's mouth, Santana's hand fell from Rachel's shoulder in disappointment. Silence enveloped the two again. Smiling in Rachel's direction, Santana turned and headed for the door. Before leaving, she stood still and spoke her final words.

"You're not gonna be sad forever, Rachel. Trust me." Then, the silence wasn't awkward and it was all Rachel had to fall into. Santana was gone.

Something fell down her cheek as she turned her attention back to the now grey day outside of her window. She hadn't felt this something in ages. She never let herself feel it; because self-pity was the last thing that she ever wanted to possess. Raising her hand, she used the back of it to wipe her cheek.

"I hope not." She whispered.

Santana's words had hit her right in the gut. They brought back memories that she never wanted to think about again. She hated her for saying that she would be there for her. Santana had no idea what she was even going through. None of them did, except for Rachel herself. And even if they did, no matter how tough things got, she'd never lean on another person for comfort. There wasn't enough trust in the world for that. Rachel hated people. It was a simple fact that'd never change. No matter how hard people tried to change it.

Okay, she thought, maybe she was shutting people out. But, she felt the same about it as she felt about everything else in this modern world. She didn't care.

Rolling her eyes, she combed her hair back with her fingers. When the hands on the clock hit 6:15, she knew that she had to get out of the house before the walls screamed at her any further. Grabbing the black leather satchel sitting on her desk chair, she set out for the stairs.

"Rachel, where are you going?" Will called out from the kitchen when she passed, stopping her in her tracks. Turning, she watched as all eyes in the kitchen were now on her. Between the six of them sat a large pile of bags filled with dark red liquid. "Emma and I got breakfast. Come and join us," he smiled.

She walked towards the dining room. Holding on tightly to the satchel on her shoulder, she grabbed one of the bags. When she popped the cap, she downed every last drop; savoring the taste before it was in the trash and she was out the front door.

She decided to head out back for a little while. By then it was almost 6:30, so she thought she'd take the time to spend about an hour to herself. She wanted to get a little breathing time in before the ruckus of the new school day started. In the blink of an eye, she stood where the green grass met the floor of the forest. Taking one last look behind her, she dropped her satchel and headed for the tree-filled land.

The land was breath-taking. However, her personal preference stood with the other land. She just guessed that she liked the other one better because it was further away from town and had the clearest view of the falls once she got to the top of the trees. There was also a deeper connection within her.

Her father took her out there constantly. She remembered the land specifically because the mark in which he placed into the tree trunk was still there, even after all of this time. It was his coping strategy after her mother passed away. He found the beauty a great distraction from his grieving. He also knew with all of his heart that that's where her spirit was. So, every day they'd spend at least an hour in that forest. She smiled to herself when only good memories flew to her mind.

They went sight-seeing along the many different trails as well as getting a good view of the falls. If you walked far enough into the forest, you'd come to the edge of a mountain. They'd sit there and just look out onto the horizon. Her breath was stolen every time.

With the slightest lift of her body, she was now sitting on the tallest branch on one of these trees. Looking out along the distance, she found the falls. They were further than they had been at the other area of land. But, the sight was just as beautiful. She smiled and decided that this was exactly what she needed to relieve the stress she had been carrying with her all morning.

She always loved when memories of her father came into her mind. Well, the good memories, of course. She had never come across a person who was like him. And she knew with all of her heart that she never would. Joseph Berry was the kind of character that you'd only get the pleasure of knowing once in a lifetime. And she was glad that she got the pleasure of having him as her father in hers. He was her best friend.

She wished that every guy would turn out to be half the man that he was. He was the most loving dad a little girl could ask for. Every characteristic that he displayed was absolutely unique. Those same characteristics being the ones that she carried with her every day; not letting a single one leave her mind. It helped her in desperate times where darkness and rage would take over. She'd grasp to his laugh, or his bright smile in hopes of composure.

But, with good memories there were always the bad. Those memories always seemed to follow shortly behind when she thought of him. The way in which he had left her was atrocious. Her inner self screamed and thrashed every time she thought of it. Then, she remembered that there was only one person to blame. And this time it wasn't herself. But, she wouldn't let her mind get into that now. It would cause her to go into a mood even worse than the one before and it'd raze her already sour day.

Instead, she went back to the happy place she was in before. Listening to the early morning birds' chirping, she pictured her father and a younger version of herself in her mind. She held on tightly to his hand as he guided her to the edge of the mountain. Perching themselves down, the water falling in the distance played through her ears and the beautiful view filled her eyes. Leaning to the side, she felt the warmth of her father's shoulder against her head. It was heaven and she wanted to stay forever.

"Rachel!"

Abruptly, the settings around her changed. To the side of her she found a branch instead of her father and the smile that painted itself along her face slowly faded into its normal state; nowhere to be found. She began cracking her knuckles as anger began to build up in her chest. Of course, she thought. Right when she was in a happy place one of them had to ruin everything. It was how things always played out.

"Rachel! Where are you?" the voice called out again. She recognized the soft high-pitched tone. It was Emma. She considered ignoring, but then she looked at the small digital device on her wrist. The numbers on the screen read 7:45. Crap was the only word she could process in her mind.

Within the second, she was standing next to the tall, young, and ginger woman. Reaching down to get her satchel, she examined Emma's expression. With clenched hands at her sides, Emma struggled to smile; the big brown eyes giving off the hint. She wore a black version of her everyday sheath dresses, black closed-toe heels that seeped into the grass, a white pearl necklace, and her large diamond wedding ring and band that always seemed to blind Rachel with its shine.

Standing up straight with the satchel close at her side, Rachel flashed her normal blank expression and waited for Emma to speak. So, she did.

"We were looking everywhere for you. My heart nearly dropped out of my chest when you didn't come the first time I called you." She said, trying to sound more polite than she was angry. Rachel wasn't stupid. She knew that all Emma wanted to do right now was scold her.

"I lost track of time. I'm sorry." Rachel answered. "It won't happen again."

"It's fine, Rachel. Exploring around is not the issue. That's actually a really fun hobby and I'm glad you like it." She paused to firm out her tone. "But, if we stay out here long enough, you're gonna be late for you first day. So, come on. The others are waiting." She smiled, waiting until after Rachel started forward to trail behind.

Getting to the front of the house, all four teenagers were waiting for her. Once she caught their attention, annoyance seemed to be the popular expression. Even Olivia, who probably just finished getting ready, rolled her eyes. There weren't enough words in the world that could express how much Rachel loathed the blonde-headed little brat.

"Great, now we're gonna be late because Tarzan over here couldn't keep from swinging in the trees. Thanks. This is officially the worse first day ever." The blonde said, running a hand through her perfectly sculpted loose curls as she faced Will and Emma and then Rachel again..

"Olivia…" Will began, but Santana finished for him. "…let's not blame Rachel, okay? She just lost track of time. Now let's go, before we really are late."

That's when Emma and Will stepped in. "Okay, so here's the plan. When you get there, go straight to the office, okay? They have your locker numbers and-" He was cut off by Sam.

"This isn't the first time we've been to a new school, Will. We know how it works." He assured him.

"He knows that. He was just making sure you guys wouldn't forget." Emma smiled, defending her husband. Sam shook his head in understanding.

"Emma has her Porsche and I have my Audi, so Sam, Rachel, and Olivia are going to take the Range Rover and Santana and Elliot are going to take Rachel's Ferrari. Have a great day, guys. I can't wait to hear the stories that you all come home with." Will smiled, as he headed to his car for work. Emma smiled, waved, and followed her husband's actions. The town's new lawyer's car left the driveway, followed by the new doctor's.

Once they left, the teenagers began piling up in the cars. Sam and Elliot climbed into the driver's side, with Santana and Olivia getting the passenger seat. This left Rachel with the back seat to climb into; which happened pretty often.

Plugging headphones into her IPhone, Three Days Grace's "Pain" began playing over whatever country crap that Sam and Olivia were singing along to. Closing her eyes, Rachel waited impatiently for the car ride to be over.

Once she saw the school's sign in the distance, she unplugged the headphones from her ears. Sam and Olivia seemed to be in the same nervous mental state as Rachel was. This explained the complete silence throughout the car.

"Is anyone else as terrified as I am right now?" Olivia's high-pitched voice broke the silence. "I don't want to do this."

"Neither do I," Sam added honestly. Rachel listened to the pattern of their breathing from the back seat closely. They were speaking truthfully. "What about you, Rachel?" Sam asked, catching her eye from the rear-view mirror. "How are you doing back there?"

"I'm fine." Rachel's words, however, weren't truthful.

"Sam, can you hold my hand? It's shaking really bad." Olivia pleaded.

"I can't, Liv. I'm driving." He replied, apologetically.

"Rachel, can you?" she asked, her brown eyes flashing the same look she always gave when she wanted something really bad. It usually leaded to a few no's, then maybe's, and always ended with a yes. That's why she was a brat. Because she got everything she wanted and she lived by that.

"Hold your own hand." She told her, turning to the window to take her away from everyone else; trying not to pay any attention to Sam looking at her with a sympathetic expression. He was just like Santana in that department. They always gave her these looks and wanted to comfort her when she lashed out at the rest of them. She knew that it was pure pity and she wouldn't have it; any of it. She didn't want it and she didn't need it.

The first thing Rachel noticed when they pulled into the student parking lot was the silver Porsche parked perfectly straight at the other end. Good, she thought. There was another person at the school with rich parents. Her fear of standing out because of the car choices slowly faded away; leaving her with a more narrow range of other reasons causing people to whisper like they always did.

The car made a sharp turn before it was set in park and Olivia and Sam were unbuckling their seat belts. It took her a few moments for her brain to truly register what was going on before she got the memo and followed. As Sam opened the door for her, she grabbed her satchel on the side of her and slowly stepped onto the concrete. Smoothing out the back of her jeans, she took in the surroundings that she would become accustomed to within the next few weeks.

She took a moment to breathe before she was running to catch up with the other two. Santana and Elliot appeared from out of nowhere, and before long they were walking together to the double-doors that led to the halls of Crystal Willow High School.

In that moment of fear, Rachel brought her dad back into her memory. His contagious laughter filled her ears as she watched his face light up with the projection of the setting sun upon the side of it. His wide smile was now flashing at her, filling her up with this inner peace that she hadn't felt this morning. Smiling to herself, she climbed the steps with the others; ready to face the obstacle that this New Year would be. What she didn't know was that fate was in the works. And boy was she in for a hell of a ride…

* * *

 **So, here's the first official chapter of Jet Black Heart. I hope all of you really like it and i'm excited to see where this journey takes us.**

 **Let me just touch on a few more points.**

 **So, Finn hasn't been introduced yet, but don't worry because he will be very, very soon.**

 **And, i kind of gathered an idea from Twilight. Don't be mad at me. Let me explain.**

 **Rachel, Santana, Sam, Olivia, and Elliot are all foster siblings with Emma and Will as their foster parents. The only two that are related is Sam and Olivia. They are twins. The rest of them just live under the same roof with no relation.**

 **Will and Emma are also in their late twenties.**

 **So, I will go ahead and say that i do not own Twilight either. The Twilight franchise belongs to Stephanie Meyers, the writers, producers, and to all of whom it may concern. Thank you.**

 **I will try and explain more in the future if and when confusion pops up..**

 **I really hope that you all enjoy this chapter and follow along with me on this promising journey. I hope to not disappoint.**

 **Until next time,**

 **-Kat :)**


	3. Flynn

**Chapter 2**

 _Scribble here, scratch there…_

Sighing, he threw the pen down for what seemed to be the one-millionth time. He couldn't get it right. No matter how many times he'd been trying. No word or context that he wrote in could describe the best sellers that always seemed to be running through his mind.

Placing the notepad aside of him, his eyes widened when he realized the day dawning on him. He must've lost track of time. At about 9 last night, he perched himself out here on their patio, lighting the small fireplace in the middle for light and warmth. He thought the sounds of late-night nature coming from the vast forest surrounding the house would provide the perfect environment. The moon and the stars offered a helping hand in setting the mood. He hadn't moved since.

Any other night and this would've been acceptable. He'd spent all summer just getting his mind off of things out here. He'd stay up at all hours, writing his heart away until he couldn't see the pages anymore. His stories spoke to him in ways that no other could. He'd tried so hard to put every bit and piece of his heart in each sentence. But, tonight was different. Or, should he say, last night?

In astonishment, he watched the glow of the sun hit every object to the side of him. This was a first, he thought. See, the town rarely had a chance to see the sun. Sitting so close to the Canadian border, they usually got the harsher part of weather. Clouds, rain, and thunderstorms were the norm. He even remembered being in the middle of June one time and wearing the biggest coat he owned.

That's just how things were around here. And, he had to admit that he wouldn't have it any other way. He always was a sucker for the bad weather and cold, rainy days. It gave him a reason to stay in without his friends dragging him out to raging keg parties this summer.

However, with the mark of the new day, all of this would come to an end. He'd be returning to bed at decent times, parties would be reserved to the weekends, and his notepad and pen would be replaced with books, pencils, and study guides.

Today marked the first day back to school. Not only was it the first day of school, but also the last first day of high school that he would have in this town. Today marked the first day of his senior year. And, he had absolutely no idea how to feel about that.

To a certain sense, he was freaking terrified. This was the last year that he had to figure everything out. His whole entire purpose was supposed to come from the next 365 days. Anything after that, and he had not a clue. His future was a wide space of absolutely nothing.

He'd fallen into the wrong group of friends early on in his high school experience; the football team. And, as some would see this as a good thing, he didn't. All the teen books and movies in the world wouldn't have been able to prepare him for what he faced, walking into high school. Now, that same feeling sat in his chest and it was more than suffocating.

He didn't mean to complain, because he knew that he was very fortunate. It was just that his life was a whirlwind. Different things were expected of him. He was a leader. He needed to be at every social event, party, and game to witness girls trying to get with him and guys trying to be like him, everyone wanted a chance to be on his good side, he had a 4.0 GPA to maintain, he was the captain of the football team, president of the student council, head of the welcoming committee for new students, lead male-vocalist of the glee club; he even pitched in ideas for yearbook from time-to-time. He had ideas to propose on the daily, people to greet, studying to get done… It was safe to say that the fact that he was disappointed to be returning was a drastic understatement.

He loved it to death, don't get him wrong, but it could get really exhausting sometimes. That's where his endurance to all-nighters developed. He could do anything now on two hours of sleep. That's exactly how he got through the last two years of high school.

This summer gave him a little bit of breathing room. He didn't have to be everywhere at once. He was allowed days to stay in and write or do nothing at all. Things were calm, for once. Well, aside from the week when his heart was quite literally ripped from his chest… But, he wouldn't get into that now. She wasn't worth it. He was told that enough times to actually believe it himself.

Without even realizing it, the morning sun had disappeared faster than it'd come. He must've gotten caught up in his thoughts. He wasn't really surprised either. It seemed to be a popular reoccurrence now-a-days.

Before he could even assume that the people inside were beginning to wake, a loud, hip-hop like knocking presented itself against the wood of the back door to the small home. "Finnegan," the girl called out as if she were singing, "Wakie-wakie, eggs and bacie."

She must've not noticed him sitting in the corner of the patio. "I'm right here, Percy. No need to scream."

He was just as shocked to see her as she was to see him. She was fully dressed. She sported a black leather jacket, a black tank top underneath, dark blue skinny jeans, and a pair of combat boots. This only caused him to wonder what time it really was. Between the three of them, if Percy was dressed, it was really time to go.

"Were you out here all night?" She wondered. Jumping onto the railing behind his chair, she wrapped her legs around his shoulders, leaning back with her elbows.

When he shrugged her off of his shoulders, her laughter erupted into the atmosphere. "I knew you would. You fucking party animal."

He only shrugged his shoulders again. "I lost track of time."

"Writing your smut?" she smirked, winking in his direction.

"My novel," he corrected her. Grabbing his notepad and pen, he rose to his feet.

"Whatever," she chuckled, reaching into her pocket for something. "Want a hit?" she asked, lighting what appeared to be a joint between her lips.

"Are you crazy?" he exclaimed, backing away. "Get that thing away from me."

"A simple no would've sufficed." She only became serious when she took in his face. "Relax, Finn. I'm only messing with you."

"I know that you are," he could only loosen up now with a smile. She'd been like this for as long as he'd known her and it was one of the many things he loved about her. She made their entire day, every day. "Where's Toni?"

"Probably smooching with himself in the mirror…" she commented.

"Taking advantage of that letterman jacket that I got him?" Finn wondered.

"You fucking know it." She laughed, taking another whiff of her blunt. "I, on the other hand, am trying to get lost so I don't end up fighting with one of the cheerleaders like I did last year."

"Well, you better try and keep it low-key. There are only so many more excuses that Mike can sell to Figgins. Don't forget that you've already pulled the dead-parent card."

"Hey," she pointed in his direction. "You stick to your group of dickhead jocks and stuck up know-it-alls, and I'll stay with my high, loner outcasts. Deal?"

He laughed, "Deal." "Now, let me go get ready before Toni is yelling at me."

"Oh, he's going to have your balls by a string when he finds out you pulled an all-nighter on a school night." She replied.

"He's not going to find out, Percy." He warned.

"See, this is why we're besties, Hudson." She smiled, taking another hit. "We're good with secrets. You don't tell him that I smoke and I don't tell him that you stayed out here all night, writing your girly smut."

"It's a science-fiction novel," he corrected her again.

Holding her hands up in defense, she jumped from the railing. Throwing her joint out, she began in the opposite direction, "Whatever you say."

He decided to take a quick shower. He would not risk walking into the office this morning smelling like Percy's weed. He'd come too close too many times to count before.

With the small white towel wrapped around his waist, he made his way towards the other end of his small room. Walking into his closet, he decided to scan the four racks in hopes of finding something right away. He decided to go with a black John Vervatos V-neck t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and black converse. Most importantly, he couldn't forget his letterman jacket. Once he was finished getting ready, he stood in front of the mirror smiling at the image it projected.

"It's just another day, Finn," he told himself. "There's nothing special about it."

 _Knock, knock ,knock…_

He turned to face the door. It was Percy again.

"Uh, you got company," she told him, raising an eyebrow.

"Huh?" he asked, following her into their living room. When the blonde cheerleader turned to face him, he began to back away.

"What are you doing here?"

"My mom dropped me off," she replied simply, making a seat out of the edge of one of their sofas. She barely paid any attention to him, using a small hand- mirror to apply lip gloss onto her lips. "You don't think that I was just going to walk into school by myself, did you? It's senior year."

"Yeah, and we're not together anymore. Didn't think I was going forget that, did you?" he replied.

Getting between the two, Percy whispered in his direction. "Just take the Porsche, Finn. Toni and I will follow in Mike's car. No need to start anything unnecessary." For as crazy and carefree as she acted sometimes, Percy was always the peace-keeper out of the three of them.

"Is Mike even awake yet?" Finn asked, ignoring the girl watching the three huddled in a group. "What are you going to do when he wakes to find his car gone?"

"He can be talked into things pretty easily, " Toni reminded him. Percy nodded in agreement.

"Can you guys share chit-chat later? I'm going to be late for the pep-rally this morning if we stand here any longer."

"Then maybe your mom shouldn't have dropped you off," Percy told the girl, placing both hands on her hips. "Any more complaints, Fabray?"

"No," she replied, returning to her cell phone.

Heading for the door, Finn grabbed his black leather satchel. Pointing in Quinn's direction, he spoke, "Not a word from you, you got it? We're listening to my music."

"Finn…"

"Get in the car. Don't want to be late, do you?" he asked. When she gave up and headed towards the silver Porsche, Finn stayed behind to face the other two.

"This is a disaster," he sighed, running two hands through his hair. "This year was supposed to be about starting over for me… But now, how can I?"

"Just remain calm, okay?" Toni told him. "Don't do anything that we wouldn't. We'll be right behind you."

"Yeah, it's just one car ride, Finn. You can get through it." Percy added.

He went to speak, but she stopped him. "Don't you dare argue with me, Finnegan. You told me the same thing when we went on that disgusting camping trip."

He knew that she was right. So, this was the moment where he took his L and disappointedly gave in. Straightening out his letterman jacket, he grabbed the keys to the Porsche from its holder. Before slamming the door behind him, he made the slightest of remarks which he knew they'd heard.

"I hope you guys will be as lenient if I were to ever murder someone…"

Once they pulled up into the parking lot, he sat there, hoping she'd get the memo and march right out. She'd done it many times before when he'd really needed her to stay. He had no idea why this time was any different.

If he thought the loud rock music that was his playlist would mask out any awkwardness, he had another thing coming. Watching people crowd around the front of the school, he became intimidated.

He signaled that he'd reached his limit when he un-buckled his seat belt. Grabbing his sunglasses from their place on the rearview mirror, he pulled the key from the ignition. But, before he could open the door on his side, however, she stopped him. She desperately held the door shut, reaching over his torso.

"Finn…" she called out; as if her tone would suddenly change his mind about things. "I was hoping that we could talk."

When he couldn't find anything to say to that, she took it as a sign to continue with what she had to tell him. As her voice sounded like sandpaper against his heart, his pride sank further and further; as it always had in her presence.

As always, he gave into what she wanted from him. Instead of refusing and getting out of the car as he should've, he sunk back into the seat and stared out the window, wishing hopelessly that he was one of the other people heading into school right now. He could only thank the heavens that he couldn't see his reflection through the tinted glass of his window.

"I miss you," she sighed, reaching for his cheek. When her hand rested against him, his senses kicked in. He never turned from someone so quickly in his life. "Hey, Finn, look at me."

"This was a mistake." He told her, turning for the door again. "I can't do this."

"No, stay, Finn…Please," she begged with tears forming under her eyes. As of now, she was basically tugging at him to stay next to her. He wanted more than to just rip away and leave her there stranded. But, the heart that he possessed screamed otherwise. He'd been left like this before and he would never wish that feeling on anyone; not even the culprit herself.

"I want you back." She started. "And before you say anything, let me explain."

"What is there to explain?" he asked, turning back to the window.

"We're meant to be, Finn. Everyone knows it and I know that you do too." She sighed, looking to her hands. "I know that a lot of shit has gone down between us these past couple of months, but we're us… We've been together for as long as I've known you. We can make it through anything."

"A lot of shit?" he asked, ignoring everything else that she'd just told him. Chuckling nonchalantly, he turned to her. "So, let me get this straight…You think that you did nothing wrong?"

"I made a mistake, Finn." She reminded him.

"A mistake," he repeated, "Wow…"

"There are only so many times I can apologize for my actions, Finn…" she cried, "I'm an idiot."

"You slept with my best friend in the backseat of my car!" he exclaimed. He felt his face reddening up. "Idiot doesn't even begin to sum it up."

"Finn…"

"No, let me speak now." He told her. "I stayed with you. For three fucking years of my life, I stayed with you. You talked me up. You told me that this was it. You manipulated me into thinking that what we had actually meant something to you."

"But, you did, Finn. You still do!" she fought over his voice.

"I thought it was my fault," he told her, staring down at the steering wheel. "I thought that I was doing something wrong every time we got into an argument last year. There were the screaming matches and the crying; I thought that I was the biggest idiot for hurting you."

She remained silent.

"But it turns out that the wrong person was at the end of the torture stick," he stared her dead in the face.

"I didn't know what I was doing, Finn." She whispered. "I was drunk."

"I didn't even want to go to that stupid party in the first place." He reminded her. "You, of all people, know how I feel about land preservation. But, I went… "

"I went for you. I knew that it was really important for you and all of your stupid cheerleader friends." He felt the lump in his throat. "Just a small part of me thought that you'd have the same consideration. But no, you ignored me and drunkenly threw yourself at every other guy there was. I knew I should've left then and there but I have this thing called a heart, and I told myself that I'd be a terrible person if I just left you behind. Little did I know, you did that a long time ago."

"I'm never going to forget finding you on top of Puck, panting like the two thirsty dogs you are…" He finally had the courage to open his door and grab his book-bag.

"You can't just leave me here like this, Finn!" she screamed. "We're the faces of this school!"

"Lock the door behind you and find another ride home. I'm not your puppet anymore, Quinn." He said. "We're done."

He walked away with his hands tucked tightly into his pockets. He'd be lying if he didn't feel a sense of guilt. He hated hurting other people. That was his biggest weakness. However, he knew that it had to be done. He had to stand up for himself, so he did.

The lump in his throat was still there as he climbed the steps and walked through the double doors. Seeing as though Toni and Percy were nowhere around to cheer him up, he decided to retreat to the bathroom for a couple of moments.

And it was a good plan, if it weren't for the group of people before him moving at their own pace; the worst of them all being the short girl in front of him with her hood over her head and the earphones in her ears. He swore they gathered their walking skills from molasses.

Finally, he was in the men's room, moving over to the sink. Taking a handful of water, he threw it at his face. The cool feeling seemed to be all that he needed to regain composure. He knew there'd probably be another late night tonight along with a few tears and monstrous amounts of soul-searching. But, as of now, he was okay to return to the day he had initially planned.

Stepping into the main office, it was as if he'd predicted everything. Mrs. Sommers was waiting by the student council sign-in sheet. His name was at the top of the list of students who had already signed in.

"I was beginning to think you'd never show up," she smiled, handing him her pen.

"Sorry," he smiled, looking to his feet. "I had a bit of a rough start this morning, I guess."

"Explains the red face," she chuckled, turning back to her computer. "Here," she handed him a tissue.

"Thanks," he replied before placing his signature next to his name. "Wait,"

She smiled as he thought on, taking in her appearance.

"There's something different about you." She smiled on, typing on her computer.

"You had your baby?" he asked, noticing that the bump she'd sported the previous school year was gone.

Reaching forward, she handed him a picture frame. Looking down, he took in her husband, her, and their newborn dressed in all pink. "Harper Lynn." She told him.

"I'm so happy for you, Mrs. S!" he exclaimed.

"Thank you," she laughed, remembering something. "Oh, and I also have a bit of good news for you."

"It's the first day back to school," he reminded her. "I'm not sure anything that you can tell me will be exactly good."

"You get a pass out of first period today," she informed him.

"Continue, "He replied, "For what?"

"Mrs. Chang is waiting for you and the others in her office to explain just that." She smiled, printing something off of her computer. "Since you're class president, she wanted you to be there. Here's your pass."

"Uh, thanks," he said, grabbing the paper and heading down the hall to Vice Principal's office.

"Mrs. Chang, you wanted to see me?" he asked, knocking on the glass door. Looking to the side, he spotted five other members of the welcoming committee.

"Ah, yes," she smiled, looking up from her pen and paper. "Have a seat, Finn."

He moved over to the wooden bench on the far side of the room, placing himself between Artie Abrams and Blaine Anderson. They only shared a friendly glance with each other before turning to hear what the woman had to tell them.

"So, now that everyone is here… I've got some news." She smiled, turning to four files displayed on each corner of her desk. "This may come as a surprise to some of you. Early semester transfers are a bit foreign to us; most of you only being in the welcoming committee to have something to show for on your records."

This hit Finn really hard in the chest. In every aspect, it's like Mrs. Chang was speaking directly to him. The truth was, he'd had only these intentions signing up at freshman orientation.

"Is this why we're getting out of first period?" Kurt Hummel asked after raising his hand. "Because I've got clothing and textile for the first time and I'd kind of like to make the most of it this year."

"I've got advanced algebra so I'm not really complaining," Mercedes Jones joked from the other side of the bench.

"I'm not sure if some of you are familiar with them yet or have heard their names, but you sure will. The new doctor, Emma Schuester and her husband William have enrolled their foster children into our school." She pleasantly smiled, notifying her enthusiasm. "They're all in principal Figgins's office now, so I figured I'd give you a hint on what you're all walking into."

"You say that like it's a bad thing, Mrs. C," Finn replied.

"No," she assured them, instantly shutting down any negative ideas. "I'm just informing you all that it's a little different than any other transfer we've had. It's quite a bit of a crowd. There are five of them; two boys and three girls."

"And, it's also very important that we are very hospitable and give off the best impression because their parents are becoming tremendous contributors to our town. Mr. Schuester is actually setting up his firm as we speak."

"So, you're telling us to treat them well because they're rich and bringing in big bucks to the school, right?" Kurt asked, bluntly.

"What?" he whispered when Blaine gently nudged him.

"I'm simply urging the five of you to be nice. They're coming all the way from Chicago. I can only imagine the pressure they're under to fit into such a small town. Be a little empathetic, is all I ask."

"Snooty, rich, city kids, great," Mercedes rolled her eyes. "As if Fabray and her clan of bitchy cheerleaders weren't enough…"

"Hey," Finn called out, instantly wondering why he made the move to defend his ex.

"Okay, let's just wrap this up before the kids walk out of Figgins' office with no one there to greet them." Mrs. Chang rose, walking towards the five with a stack of manila folders.

"These are their files," she started, handing them to the group. "Well, the least important versions of their files. I will not be giving you their personal information."

"Right, because I was totally going to sell," Kurt paused to read the name on the top of the folder," Olivia Evan's social security number online."

Mrs. Chang only rolled her eyes. "I've assigned each person based on similarities in personality."

"Why do only two of them have the same last name and why aren't they all Schuester?" Finn asked, reading over the folders they were handed.

"Well, Will and Emma are well into their late 20's. Don't quote me on this, but from town gossip, Emma found out she couldn't have children pretty young so they started to foster. When they got the teenagers, they fell in love. The last one to become adopted was Elliot, I think. They decided to keep their last names to avoid gossip, I guess."

Didn't seem to be working, Finn thought.

"Mercedes, you have Santana Lopez." She addressed the girl at the other end of the bench from Finn. "Here's all that I've gathered. She's a lot like you. She's into fashion but also has a sense of attitude to her. At least that's what Mr. and Mrs. Schuester told us. She's not afraid to hold her tongue and tell people how it is. In viewing her file, I'm sure the two of you will get along very well."

"I sure hope so," she replied. "If she tells me something, I'll show her the hospital instead of hospitality."

"Oh, shut up, Mercedes," Kurt rolled his eyes. "You know you won't do anything."

"Bite me, Hummel," she nudged her friend with a hint of laughter.

"Enough you two," Mrs. Chang lectured before moving forward to Kurt. "Kurt, as you've already read, I've assigned to you Olivia Evans."

"So, tell me more." He smiled, placing his chin on his hands.

"Well, like Santana she's all about the fashion world. They said her entire room is pink and black, with a designer everything."

"Hey, I think I saw her this morning." Blaine interrupted. "Was she that tall blonde girl with the Gucci sunglasses?"

"That was her." Mrs. Chang smiled.

"Are you sure she's not a goddess?" Kurt asked with pure amazement. Finn could only laugh on his end of the bench.

"They said she's very friendly and a little bit dingy, so just be careful and speak kind of slow or else she might not understand what you're talking about."

"Is that a joke?" Artie asked.

"She's got a puppy that she keeps in her room. Maybe bring that up? She really likes to talk about her dog. His name is Max, I think. Oh, and they mentioned something about nail polish. Try and bring that up, would you? I'm sure the two of you will get along just fine."

"Artie, you have Sam Evans; her twin brother." Mrs. Chang moved forward in the line. "He's pretty simple actually. He's into a lot of music like you. Emma said that he's got just about everything in his room from as early as the 1950's. He can also sing really well, so try and encourage him to join the glee club with you guys, okay?"

"Will do," Artie smiled, reviewing the papers in the folder, taking in all of the information.

"Now, Blaine, you have Elliot Scott. I apologize in advance for the mix-up. Elliot is actually buff and really into sports, which I know that you are not. I was going to assign him to Finn, but something came up. However, I still think that you guys can make a connection over something like music. Mrs. Schuester says that he is kind of shy when first getting to know people, but once you get him warmed up, he will talk your head off." She laughed. "He likes landscapes and cities of the world. Just tell him about all of the places you've traveled to and I think he will be fine."

"Alright, they should be getting out just about now," she smiled, glancing over her small wrist watch. "Their locker numbers are on the top of the page. I'm going to give you all their schedules and you can wait for them there."

As the other four started to make their way out into the hall, Finn stopped in front of the woman with pure confusion written across his face. "How come you didn't tell me about my person? I don't even have a name written across the top like the other ones."

"I needed to speak to you about your person privately." She informed him. "Close the door, would you?"

"Um, sure," he replied, following her orders. Sitting in one of the chairs before the desk, Finn waited.

"I needed the best on our team for this person, Finn. And, you're exactly that." She smiled. "You have the most experience and the best communication skills that I've seen out of every student that has come into this field. You even got Tina Cohen-Chang to drop her stutter and at your age, that's impressive. Grown teachers had been struggling with her for years."

"Not that I don't love all of the bragging, but your point?"

"Out of all of their children, they warned me the most about her. Which is why I figured you'd be perfect for the project." She told him, retrieving a folder from the bottom drawer of her desk. Taking it from her hands, he read the name over the top; _Rachel Berry._

Flipping through the files, he found a monstrous amount of copies of poetry and music sheets; for the piano, he assumed. The only thing that caught his eyes was the tone in which she wrote. These tiny bits that he'd skimmed over were some of the most twisted and dark words he'd ever read. And that was saying a lot. He remembered his Edgar Allan Poe fascination.

"They just told me that she was a little difficult to communicate with. She's having a little trouble adjusting to everything. I figured you of all people could get through to her. They tell me she loves English just like you and she's really good with the piano. You like rock music too, right?"

"Yeah, but, I don't know if-"

"Rachel's very bright. She even has a perfect 4.0 just like you." She interrupted him. "Which is why I think the two of you will get along very well. And they begged that I find someone whom she could confide in. They're very worried for her." "I didn't want to assign her to any of the others because I knew they would be knocking at my office by lunchtime."

"So, you've met her?" Finn asked.

"She's a little unpleasant," she admitted. "But, I see so much potential behind her, Finn. And you will too, I promise. C'mon, you've never let me down before. Do you honestly think I'd put you into a situation that you couldn't handle? You're our best member."

He really wanted to tell her no. He had already been dealt his fair-share of negativity for the morning and that was all he needed as of now. He'd accidentally stayed up all night and had no idea how he'd be able to get through all classes after lunch without collapsing, he had to relive his worst heartbreak with his ex-girlfriend in his car this morning begging for him to take her back, and now he was being asked to hang around Moody Judy the entire day.

Always being the one that others could depend on definitely had its downsides. Another one of his downsides was his greatest weakness. The fact that he hated to hurt other people resulted in the fact that he could never tell anyone no.

"Where's her schedule?" he asked, standing from the chair.

Smiling widely, she reached for it and handed him the white paper. "Thank you so much, Finn. You have no idea how much you're appreciated over here."

He shrugged it off. "Is there anything else I should know before I go?"

"Just be yourself. She'll come around, I know it."

"Okay, thanks," he smiled before closing the door behind him and making it out of her office. Turning the corner to the hall that possessed her designated locker, he noticed the other four standing and waiting in front of the others'.

"They haven't come out yet?" Finn asked Blaine, who stood the closest to this girl's locker. When he shook his head, Finn sighed in disappointment. This entire thing would be a lot less awkward if he didn't have to stand here like an idiot and wait for her to show up.

When the sound of a door being opened played through the air, they all seemed to instantly straighten out their stance. Finn took a deep breath, straightening out his letterman jacket, while holding the schedule in his other hand.

As of now, they could only hear them. A girl with a very high-pitched voice spoke very loudly with Principal Figgins.

"Then how would you like to decorate the halls, Ms. Evans?" he asked.

"Well the colors are red, black, and white, right?" she waited for approval.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Well, you should paint the walls black with the school mascot on them and the lockers should be red with a white outlining. That's how I see it," she explained on.

"I like her already," Kurt whispered. They all assumed it was Olivia. When the group rounded the corner and the beautiful blonde came into sight, they were proved correct.

"Well, I hope you guys have a wonderful first day and you know where my office is if you need anything," Figgins told the five before walking back where he came from. This left the five of them to face the other five.

They got the memo once they looked down and found their locker numbers before making their way to each person. It was when Elliot made his way in Blaine's direction that he spotted the girl.

He could tell that she was the runt out of the group the moment that his eyes fell on her. One could tell she was different just by a quick glance. Alongside the tremendous height difference, there were many other things that screamed different as opposed to the other four.

For one, her clothes definitely set her aside. With the two girls on the side of her wearing light colors, she only presented black. When she took off her hoodie, he put the puzzle pieces together. Something very familiar came of her presence.

As she looked down at the folded up paper in her shaky hands, he noticed something else. As all of the others presented a slight smile when heading toward their person, her expression remained the same when her eyes scanned him. Any hint of emotion was foreign to her. Instead, her face remained blank the whole walk in his direction.

"Is this 106?" she mumbled, gripping the black satchel that matched his with all the strength in the world.

"Are you Rachel Berry?" he asked, with the most polite voice he could find within himself. He'd done this two times before, so it came a little easier than he'd expected before. Looking down at her, he tried to be empathetic like Mrs. Chang told them before.

"The one and only," she said looking to the floor.

"Well, it's nice to meet you." He smiled. "My name's Finn and I'm going to help you around school today. You know, just to get a little used to things and stuff. Here's your schedule and when you're ready we'll head off to your first class."

He continued to talk to what seemed to feel like a wall. She continued to look him up and down, as if not gathering a word he was saying. At least with all of the others, they were giving input and asking questions. "We actually have the same first period; French with Mrs. Bankston. You'll love her class if you like to sleep. We pretty much never do anything in there. I had her last year too."

"No thank you," she simply replied, turning back to the paper in her hands.

Confusion seemed to rush back to his head. Was she blowing him off or the class? Chuckling a bit, he spoke to her again before she could move an inch.

"I-I'm sorry…Did you say no thanks?" he asked, nervously placing his hands over his hips.

"Yeah," she replied nonchalantly. "I pretty much got it from here." Her eyes never left the schedule that she'd ripped from his hands. "But, thanks…" she said this like it was a challenge to her.

He knew this wasn't going to be easy. But, little did he know that this girl would make his job, altogether, impossible. He couldn't give up just yet. He didn't want to let Mrs. Chang down. He never had before and would not start on the first day of his senior year.

"I-I don't think you understand," he nervously started, looking down at the girl as her eyes remained on the paper. Something about her intimidated him. In any other circumstance, he was never afraid of confrontation. However, this time, it's like she had his balls bunched up in her hands. He sighed watching everyone else walk away with their new partner while he was stuck with a situation he'd never come across before. No one had ever refused the help of the welcoming committee before. "This is a part of my grade. I have an office pass for this. So, let's just get your stuff into your locker and we'll head to class."

"Do you have something wrong with your ears?" she snapped.

 _Wow_ , he thought... He never remembered her being this much of a bitch before.

"No," replied. "Do you?"

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Great, you're just like the rest of them."

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Let me guess, Will and Emma told the principal that I was complicated to handle and so they hired the best of the best to keep an eye on me and make sure that I don't go bat-shit crazy on someone, right?"

When he didn't say anything, she sighed and continued. "Well, guess what, Flynn…"

"It's Finn," he corrected her.

"Whatever your name is, you try doing this your whole life and we'll talk, okay? As of now, I don't need a babysitter," she sighed, moving past him to try out her locker combo. When she couldn't get it the third time, she banged her fist against it.

"Hey," he chuckled a bit, moving in to help her. "Relax, okay? It's perfectly normal for you to not get it." "You should've seen me the first day of freshman year. I was a mess."

"Do you not know how to catch a hint?" she asked, incredulously.

"I don't know," he smirked. "I just caught the hint that you don't know how to get into your locker."

Sighing, she threw her bag on the ground. Holding the paper out to him, she crossed her arms and looked in the opposite direction. "Just this once," she warned him. "And after that, you're a ghost like the rest of all of these people in this stupid school."

"Are you always this pleasant," he remarked, looking down at the paper as he worked her lock. "Or is it just a monthly thing?"

"I don't exactly remember giving you permission to speak to me," she sighed, watching him closely. When he popped the door open, she moved to quickly shove all that she could in the tight space. Backing up, he figured he'd push her further. For some reason, he got a high out of messing with her.

"I don't remember asking," he smiled, watching her struggle some more. Moving in to help her with her books, she instantly backed away. "Dude, just, leave me alone, okay?" she asked. "I don't show you around the football field, so you don't have to worry about me. I'm perfectly fine on my own."

"That locker would have to disagree." He replied, crossing his arms. "You know, you remind me a lot of a girl I used to know when I was younger…"

"Really, because I've only known you for about a few minutes and you're already number five on my hit-list."

"Better not say that to anyone else over here or else you'll be doing all of this in another school," he joked. "Possibly with handcuffs…"

"Who cares? It's not like I won't be doing this somewhere completely different in a couple of years, anyways. My parents are picky. They can't ever enjoy the places they choose to live in."

"What about you? Do you enjoy the places they choose to live in?"

"I've definitely had better," she said, looking around.

"I don't think college is as bad," he assured her. "People aren't as hospitable and caring. You'd probably fit right in."

"Well, somewhere deep down inside of me didn't think that this would be as bad, but here we are." She rolled her eyes.

He only laughed, picking up her bag for her. Ripping it from his hands, she held the schedule in her hands, ready to find her own way around. "Nice shirt, by the way." He said, looking at the Star Wars symbol across the middle.

Pushing her glasses up, she ignored him and stared down at the first class listed on her paper. "Have a nice day," she thought for a moment, "Finn."

"I commend you," he sarcastically clapped.

Walking in the opposite direction, she looked from door to door to find the classroom. He only laughed, knowing that she was heading in the wrong direction. He wanted her to realize that on her own with the way she was to him, but, at the same time, he wasn't an asshole and he'd hoped no one would ever be to him if he were new at a completely new school in a completely new state.

He set out in a jogging pace to catch up to her. "Hey, wait up!" he called.

He already knew that this was just the start of a very long day.

* * *

 **There's chapter 2! Let me know what you think! :)**


	4. Walking Encyclopedia

**Chapter 3**

 _Thump, thump, thump…_

The same sound projected itself from every person that walked by. There were, of course, the sounds of lockers being slammed, chit-chat, and the occasional laughter from every few groups of people around her. However, in that moment, the only thing that could play in her head was that same sound that came into it every time she found herself surrounded by the human population.

Her mind seemed to wonder off into a whirlwind of different scenarios. With the slightest movement, she'd give into her biggest temptation. She'd have the satisfactory feeling that she remembered from long ago and the blazing hunger that she'd carried around with her every day would be gone. With the flip of a switch, she'd be rid of the act that she had been putting on for as long as she could remember.

In her mind, she watched these scenarios closely, hearing every heart that moved closer to her. By the smallest movement of her feet, she now had the pretty blonde cheerleader in her arms. She could hear the questions of confusion from the girl. The terrified look played itself across the blonde's face when her true motives were to be revealed. She'd have her way with the small place on the neck that she loved, oh so much.

She could feel the warm liquid pouring into her mouth, hitting ever taste bud individually. She'd take a little, and then she'd go for more. She'd start gulping until she could convince herself that she'd had enough. The blonde's inanimate body would fall to the ground with a loud thud. Then, the slamming of the lockers, catch-up chit chat, and occasional laughter from the students would turn into chilling screams. She'd catch the eyes of the blonde's closest friends, or maybe even boyfriend. She'd get the same horrendous look that she remembered from all those years ago. The same facial expressions that used to bring her so much pleasure in seeing; the same facial expressions that she used to think were hilarious. The same facial expressions that she had gotten every time she revealed the monster she was pretending not to be.

A small brush against her shoulders pulled her back to reality. The thumping didn't even bother to speed up before a voice played in her ears. It was rushed and followed by the continuation of a conversation that had been going on before the contact.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Opening her eyes, she allowed herself to readjust to the surroundings she was daydreaming in. It took her a few minutes to realize that everyone was now moving out of the halls, leaving her standing awkwardly by the metal locker she'd just become acquainted with earlier this morning. Luckily, people didn't notice her reverie and if they did, they ignored it.

She had survived the first four hours of the new day. She wasn't exactly saying that she would go home and spill all about how she loved her new teachers and all the new friends that she made like the others usually did. But, she did have to say that this wasn't exactly her worst experience.

Now, she was in the middle of her lunch hour. _Appropriate_ , she thought…

She left herself a minute to gather her composure back together before she decided it was time to head towards the others; wherever they may be. She didn't want to get into trouble for lurking in the hallways on her first day.

The cafeteria revealed itself to be full once she walked through the two large doors. The nauseating smell of food filled the air as she examined the room. Her search came up empty when not a single familiar face could be spotted. Well, except for the certain blonde that starred in her mind moments before…

Somewhere within the next few minutes, she decided it would be safe to get into the lunch line. The last thing she needed were wandering eyes on her. Standing by the entrance like an idiot would do nothing to remedy this ideal. So, despite her incredibly uncomfortable state, she stood in a line of strangers for food that she'd probably have to shove down her throat.

After a while of waiting, she was met by an aged brunette lady with a net to hold her hair back. Bitterness played itself out by the way she scooped and placed the food into Rachel's plate. For some odd reason, Rachel took an understanding to the lady's ways. She probably had high hopes and dreams in high school for her future. Then, reality hit hard and she was stuck fixing food for a bunch of obnoxious and ignorant teenagers; only to be made fun of and ridiculed behind her back. She found that she could relate.

Once she was all the way through the line, her plate had been filled with mashed potatoes, some sort of meat, green beans, and a carton of milk. An old man waited at the end of the line with a cash register before him. Digging into the pockets of her satchel, she found a 5 dollar bill. Handing it to him, Rachel walked away before he could return the change.

She did another examination of every face that she could on her way back. Her chest tightened when none of the faces revealed the features of the people that she was looking for. Finding it useless, she found the nearest empty table and occupied it. Picking up the plastic fork sitting on the side of the plate, she scooped up the white mush. The disgust that ran through her insides couldn't even be explained.

Gulping heavily, she placed it back in its original corner. She decided to go for the bigger items. Maybe they'd be easier to push down, she told herself. Picking up the green bean, she placed it on her tongue and chewed as slowly as physically possible.

It was very strange to her. She remembered how much she used to love green beans when she was human. She'd have them freshly picked and cooked for her with almost every meal. But now, they tasted like cardboard; pushing just one of them down felt like the most difficult chore on the list. But she did it anyway. It was the only way that they could coexist without causing any suspicion.

She sighed internally when she found multiple sets of eyes resting on her as she sat alone. It was only a matter of time, she thought. Rolling her eyes, she stabbed the meat on her plate with the fork in her hand. She didn't care. She never would, because they weren't important enough to. No one was.

Instead, she reached into her bag and pulled out her earphones. Her temper returned to normal when the loud rock music drowned out the bunch of blood-bags dressed in cheerleading outfits, sitting in a group, munching down on their food, and talking about the "weird new girl".

That's when she noticed a few groups of people exiting the back doors that she hadn't noticed before. The Indian principal guy didn't really give them the full tour of the school this morning, but they seemed to know where they were going. So, she decided that she would follow them. Even if she would totally embarrass herself by going to the wrong place, she'd be rid of the eyes and whispers of these morons. There wasn't really a lot to lose.

Getting up, she dumped her plate in the trash can and made her way into what looked like a large courtyard. Taking a moment, she examined the faces of entirely new teenagers as opposed to the ones she had already seen in the cafeteria. Before long, she saw Santana, then Elliot, and then Sam and Olivia. They were all sitting at a concrete table, engaged in a conversation of their own.

Throwing her satchel on the flat surface, she slumped next to Sam and waited for the group to acknowledge her presence. It didn't take long.

"So much for sticking together…" she began with her usual agitated and harsh tone taking place.

"We texted you like a million times." Olivia told her, without even acknowledging her presence. She was wrapped up in some conversation that she hadn't had the time to catch up on. Rachel didn't know if it was because of the whispers about her in the cafeteria or the fact that she wanted to strangle Olivia every time she opened her big mouth, but she felt large amounts of rage beginning to surface in her blood.

"Well, then I guess I'm out of data," She replied through gritted teeth. She knew that she'd only cause a scene if she spoke what was really on her mind. So, instead, she decided to be the bigger person; a decision that she made a lot with the people around her. Those people usually being the blonde-headed dimwit that she despised so much.

"That's your problem, not ours. Anyways, like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…" she returned to the others. Rachel wanted nothing more than to pry out her own eyeballs.

"How did you find out all of this information within the first few hours of school?" Santana asked curiously as she scooped mash potatoes onto her fork.

"You know how compulsion works, don't you?" Olivia asked, sassily.

"Liv, you can't be doing that around here. We can't risk being caught." Sam warned her. "Besides, I saw the guy. There's nothing too special about him."

"But Sam, you didn't see the way he walked past me," She went on. "His face is the most beautiful thing that I've seen in ages. And, I've seen some pretty good looking guys in the past."

"Rachel, get this. The second half of the day hasn't even started yet and Liv's already drooling over some guy. Wonder how long this one will last. Pretty sure we don't want to bring up that mess called Xavier." Santana explained, catching Rachel up on a conversation that she would have been totally lost in otherwise. She didn't know why, but this made her laugh. She guessed that it was because Olivia was so predictable.

If Rachel was laughing, they knew that it had to be funny. So, the rest of the group joined in. Well, with the exclusion of the blonde, of course. She sat with a serious expression, crossing her arms over her chest and letting out a loud sound of exasperation.

"Big shocker…" Rachel let out after they had all returned to their previous states.

"You guys are really starting to hurt my feelings. Xavier was a bad person. That's why it turned out the way that it did." She defended herself.

"You don't even know anything about this guy," Santana rubbed the girl's arm. "Babe, you have to get to know the person before you plan your wedding with them." She chuckled. "Plus, Will and Emma would never go for it. They were very specific when they told us to be careful. Hudson is a human. That's not being very careful, don't you think?"

"Hudson?" Rachel asked, remembering earlier this morning. "As in, Flynn?"

"Yeah, she's got the hots for your mentor," Elliot informed her with an annoyed tone. She watched as he pushed his food around with his fork like she had earlier.

"His name is Finn, for your information." She corrected the both of them. She only sighed, remembering the first time she'd been corrected.

"And you're an idiot, for your information." Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. Just, look at him." Olivia replied, completely ignoring Rachel in the process. All four sets of eyes left each other, causing Rachel to follow their glance. She found the extremely tall brunette guy that had greeted her earlier this morning. He stood by a tall oak tree, tossing a football back and forth with another guy, laughing about whatever they were discussing.

After first period, she'd bolted quickly out of the classroom before he could get a chance to catch up to her. And, luckily enough, they hadn't had the same class since. She assumed he'd either forgotten about the whole thing or just all-together gave up. She was okay with either theory; as long as he left her to her own solitude.

Sitting here now, Rachel only rolled her eyes again at the blonde. She couldn't help but see nothing more than the melodramatic teenage stereotypical high school movie situation that it actually was. She had more important things to worry about than Olivia falling for the, probably popular, quarterback of the football team. If she wanted to witness that, she'd just watch an episode of "One Tree Hill".

"He's beautiful," Olivia smiled after returning her attention back to the group. She then proceeded to further the conversation, explaining all of the details she had obtained from some senior she compelled in the bathroom about him. Huffing with everything she had, Rachel turned to her phone and earphones again. Once Nirvana's "Come as you are" began playing through her ears, she rested her head against her arms and spent the rest of her lunch break doing what she did best; drowning out the rest of the world and keeping to herself.

English came next with Mr. Spencer. Standing in front of everyone, he explained everything that was written on the white syllabus that had been passed out at the beginning of class.

With her observation skills being perfected to a tee, Rachel focused her attention closely on the teacher. He was entirely different than the Spencer's that she remembered from the first time she'd settled in this town. They had always thrown the highest class, most civilized gatherings. She remembered how they pranced around in their fancy dresses and suits, speaking in the most elegant northern accents while sipping their high-priced champagne. This guy, on the other hand, looked like he was recovering from a massive hangover in clothes that he had probably worn the day before. But she wouldn't pass judgement. English was her second favorite subject. Any person brave enough to teach something as eclectic and essential had her utmost respect.

As he went on, she guessed that he possessed the least annoying qualities out of all of her other teachers. He had a way about him. The way he spoke grabbed her attention and never let it go until there were no more words to pay attention to. Plus, he explained things in such a way that caused her to become interested. She never let a single word leave her mind without processing. The least could be said about all of her other teachers.

"Now, I am a very difficult teacher to have, or so I've been told. We're all either seniors or juniors in this class, which means that there will be no babying and exceptions or excuses. When I give out an assignment, I expect it turned in the date it is due. Any further time, it will go in the trash can where it probably belongs." He smiled, as he watched fear creep into the expressions of the many students around her.

"Nah, I'm not that bad you guys." He laughed. "But, I did scare you all, didn't I?" he asked. "As long as you do your work in here and get good grades, I don't see why we can't have a pretty rockin' time." The expression he carried on turned serious once more.

"I just really want you guys to understand the importance of the English language. I mean, it's been around for ages. Doesn't that sound crazy? It's so broad and we get the chance to be able to look into the different scriptures and literature and uncover the many emotions that have been put on paper by people who lived long before us. We get to read into their everyday lives and see things through their eyes. We also get to jump into those people's imaginations when we read the many fictional stories that they came up with. English is a very beautiful subject that, a lot of times, gets taken advantage of. So, this year, I'm going to make it my priority to reveal that beauty to you and get you to truly understand how essential it is to all of your youthful minds." He explained.

Her mind was anything but youthful having seen and did the things that she had, but his words were alluring. So, she decided that she'd take the bait. She'd always done her best work in English and literature.

"Quick question, how many of you have heard of The Great Gatsby?" Mr. Spencer asked, grinning when half the class raised their hands, including Rachel.

"Leonardo Dicaprio is an amazing actor and although he did do a great job in that movie, I'm talking about the book by F. Scott Fitzgerald." Laughter filled the air. "Let me rephrase. How many of you have read The Great Gatsby?"

Without thinking, Rachel raised her hand once more. She figured that there had to be at least one other person in the class that had read the book. Then she remembered that she was in a town full of dumb asses. Sighing internally, she realized her mistake when Mr. Spencer's attention was on her.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Rachel Berry." She replied, trying to hide behind her hand as she pretended to rub her forehead.

"Well, Rachel Berry, if you've read the book, compare your own characteristics to Jay Gatsby," he instructed, putting all the pressure and eyes on her. _Great_ , she thought.

"I can't. I mean, I know what it feels like to go from rags to riches, but Jay Gatsby isn't a guy with principles that anyone would want to live by. I mean, yes, he's the American Dream with his success and all the money that he had. But, he didn't gain that honorably. All of that money was from organized crime, and for what? To impress the girl that he loved. Everything that he does is all part of his grand scheme to win back Daisy. He throws these huge parties and does everything else to win her over. He gets so lost in his dream of having Daisy that his life turns more into an illusion. He becomes more in love with the idea of Daisy, than Daisy herself. Then, he enters a fantasy world and in the end, his inability to face reality is what gets him killed." Rachel explained. She had read the book enough times to know the exact words to say. "I, on the other hand, don't believe in love. So, I'd never devote my entire life into winning someone over. I do what I do for myself. I don't depend on impressing others for my own happiness. Everyone's going to have an opinion about me either way. It's a waste of time to live everyday making sure they have a positive one rather than a negative. I have come into terms with reality. I see the world for how it really is and fantasy is nothing more than the thing used in children's stories. So, to answer your question, I'm nothing like Jay Gatsby."

"Uh, wow. That was surprisingly not what I was expecting." Mr. Spencer said with shock painted upon his youthful features. He had to be in his early 30's. "So, I'm gathering that English is your favorite subject?"

"Actually, I find History a lot easier. But, I like to read a lot of old books that have probably been put on the shelves and completely forgotten about. I also tried writing short stories at one point in my life, but I'm not really good at it." She admitted.

"Any favorites?" he asked, enthusiastically.

"I've read too many to even remember." She replied, shooting down his hopes on starting a conversation based on whatever book she'd bring up.

"Well could you at least name a few? I'm curious to see your comprehension level." Anything to amuse the teacher; that's all school seemed to be about, now-a-days.

"Okay. Um, Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, To Kill a Mockingbird, Wuthering Heights, Animal Farm, Of Mice and Men, Emma, The Odyssey, Les Miserable, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, a bunch of plays by Shakespeare, and many other books; including the Twilight Series." She added, causing the other students to laugh. "I can't really remember a lot of the other ones. We just never really had a TV growing up in my house, so I learned to love to read."

"You're like an English Wikipedia. You do realize that you've read every single one of my dream books, right?" He was impressed, and somewhere deep inside of her she was glad. But, she was also beginning to realize that she was blowing her cover. There was no way that a young girl, even at the age of 17, could have read all of those books. But she had and she loved every single one of them.

"They're great from the memory I have of them." She smiled shyly, hoping he'd move on.

"Do you like poetry as well?" he asked.

"I've read some, but I'm not as good with comprehension of them as I am with actual books."

"Who's your favorite?" he asked as he was becoming more and more intrigued.

"Edgar Allen Poe." If she was being completely honest, she really didn't know that much about it. She'd tried to write it here and there, but she'd never classify herself as good. She didn't even know that many poets. The only name that came up into her mind was him. So, she answered the teacher.

"So darkness and mysteriousness fascinates you?" he asked.

"You could say that." That was the only way she could say it without telling the teacher that darkness and mysteriousness was actually who she was.

"He's my favorite too," a voice emerged from the back of the class. Turning around, Rachel hadn't even noticed him walk in. Now, as he sat in the far back corner of the room, he made his presence known.

"I've actually read your research paper from last year, Finn. I have to say, I'm very impressed." Mr. Spencer smiled encouragingly in his direction.

"Everyone seems to remember him for 'The Raven', but I happen to like 'Annabel Lee' myself." Finn smiled, doodling against a notebook displayed in front of him.

"Well, I like him because I can relate to him on a spiritual level." Rachel commented, looking down at the paper on her desk.

"That's the thing," Finn started.

"What do you mean?" she raised an eyebrow, now facing his direction, full-on.

"A lot of people like him just because he was interestingly insane and dark and twisted. What people seem to miss is that he was just a simple guy, turning to poetry after the loss of his mother and the love of his life drove him insane…"

"My sincerest apologies," Rachel started, holding her hands up in defense. "I didn't realize the two of you used to hang." The class erupted into laughter at her comment.

"I'm just pointing out that I see past all of the stereotypes usually tied to his name," he explained himself. "I've studied him a lot."

"If you saw past the stereotypes, you wouldn't be friends with half of the judgmental people in this school. But, you are…" In saying this, the class broke out into a fit of silent whispers. She realized then that she actually said that out loud. "Just say that you're smarter than everyone else in the class..."

"No, you took that all wrong…" He began in a panicked manner. "I'm really sorry. That's not what I was trying to say. I just get carried away sometimes. English is my favorite subject."

" _What a bitch_ ," a redhead commented, sitting next to her.

" _Who does she think she is_ ," her ears picked up from another girl on the other end of the class, " _talking to Finn Hudson like that_."

" _She sure has a lot to say for being the new kid_ ," a guy commented this time.

Clapping his hands together, Mr. Spencer broke through the ruckus. "Okay, guys, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Opinions are okay to have but I want this to be an atmosphere where we all come together. No one is better than the other. We're all different individuals with different levels of understanding and creativity. Guys, the future is in our hands and the decisions that we make daily. I don't think you all truly understand how extraordinary that is."

All she wanted to do then was stand up and tell him to save his breath. She'd been through way too many other classes, just like this one, knowing that that'd never be a possibility. She was going to be a seventeen year old little girl forever. The only contributions she'd ever make were to high schools' pay checks across the nation. Nothing bigger or brighter would ever come from it. That was just another one of the many realities that she'd come to accept as the years passed her by.

He brought the conversation back to an English-related focus after that. "The reason that I brought up all these questions was to try and bring up what we're going to be doing this year. We're going to be reading Shakespeare and The Great Gatsby, along with poetry by lots of writers including Poe himself."

"Now, how about grade averages?" he asked, pointing to the syllabus. Screaming internally, she tried to find something to distract her. Luckily, she had the help of her supernatural powers. Using her listening skills, she picked up on a conversation going on in another class. It seemed to be a Spanish class by the teacher's distant words, but whatever discussion Rachel picked up on had nothing to do with Spanish.

"I don't understand why he hates me enough to just drag me around." The girl whispered with a great amount of anger on her tongue. "We were doing great in the beginning and now I'm just another one of his booty-calls."

"Quinn just calm down, okay?" the voice told the girl, whom was now Quinn. "You're making a big deal out of nothing."

"No, I won't calm down. You saw the way that he treated me at lunch today and for half the summer he blew off plans with me to go to parties and be with other girls. What kind of guy does that, Britt?" she asked.

"Is this a test? Because I feel like if I give you my honest opinion you'll get mad at me and tell me that I'm stupid like you always do."

"He treats me like the dirt under his shoes, Brittany." The girl exclaimed in a hushed voice.

"Why don't you just break up with him, then?" Brittany asked. "You guys haven't even gone public yet. It's not like people would know if you did. Your reputation would remain perfectly in-tack."

"Because, I don't know, Brittany," She replied, defeated. "He makes me feel good, I guess. He has this hold on me. It's hard to explain. He makes me do things that I would never imagine doing if circumstances were different. I even asked Finn to take me back this morning to make him jealous."

"Then, stay with him. You guys are just on the outs, Q. I give it a week before he has you in his arms again. You're the perfect couple. You're Quick."

"You're right." She chuckled. "Now, do you have any idea what this bitch is saying? I cheated my way through Spanish I." They both laughed together before Rachel returned her attention to her current surroundings.

She cringed at the lack of self-consideration. This had always been the case for girls in Crystal Willow, from as long as she could remember. She remembered how girls were expected to believe that everything they would grow up to do would be for the man. No questions asked, just the simple fact of life. You'd live out your years of youth, get sold into marriage once you turned the proper age your parents saw fit, bear the children, and then spend the rest of your life taking care of them while the guy repeatedly strayed; A fate that, luckily, she got to escape.

But, now, in the twenty first century, you'd think that they would have become a lot smarter; no longer having to go through all of that. But, here she was, listening to a girl cry over how her boyfriend treated her like crap. You don't like the way a guy treats you? Dump his ass. Don't take advice from your friend who obviously has no idea what she's talking about. What was this Brittany girl even saying? The women involved in the feminist movement would have died right about now. She said this because she specifically remembered standing outside of the White House in the freezing cold while flashing a sign and yelling for her equality.

Girls nowadays didn't even pay attention to that. Don't get her wrong, there were the few that were smart enough to truly appreciate their independence. But most of them revolved their lives around impressing the opposite gender. They'd do everything in their power to gain their attention. Starving yourself suddenly became the key if you saw yourself as fat, plastic surgery was the option if you had imperfections…

Everything that these girls did was for them; for the dream of getting the guy. They'd fall further and further into the illusion, until they were living in a fantasy where the guy they loved could actually be a good person. Every time he'd call her pretty or be nice for a change, she'd hold out hope. Then reality would strike and she'd end up getting her heart stumped on. She knew this because it's exactly what happened in the final moments of her human life; an aspect of her past life that she would never allow to see the light of day from the back of her mind.

So yes, Mr. Spencer, the person she was long ago could relate to Jay Gatsby; as could this Quinn girl and every other person who held out hope for someone who clearly didn't deserve it.

But, that wasn't her anymore. She had seen too many storms to know not to step out in the rain. She was stronger now. She saw people for who they really were and she didn't put up with the blester that came along with everyday human beings. She stuck with the only person that she knew would never hurt her and that she could trust the most; herself. She knew she sounded like a broken record by how many times she said it before, but it was the truth.

The flipping of papers around her pulled her out of her trance. She quickly moved to follow the actions of the students around her as they got to the last page of the syllabus. She refocused her attention on Mr. Spencer to find him talking about bathroom breaks. Rolling her eyes, she desperately needed the bell to ring soon.

She only had to hold on for two more hours. Next class period would be the last class before they were let out of school. And, next period was U.S History, so she knew the time would fly by like nothing. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she estimated about ten more minutes in here.

Those ten minutes couldn't have come any slower. Once the bell rang, she rushed past the large crowd of classmates she'd previously upset. As she moved, she clung to the slip of paper that told her where it was. She followed the map in front of her, not paying attention to any thumping heart beats that passed her. She trailed forward for about another few seconds before she heard his voice calling out her name.

"Hey, Rachel, wait up!" Hearing his footsteps, she assumed he was jogging to catch up. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she ignored him and walked faster.

"You forgot to get your English book from Mr. Spencer's desk," he smiled once he finally caught up to her. She bit her tongue, not wanting to get into any more trouble than she already was with a majority of the student population. She just really didn't know what was up with this guy or why he had to follow her around like a puppy begging for a pet. "I wrote your name at the top so you wouldn't be able to lose it, even if you tried…" he chuckled, looking down at her.

"I guess it's a good thing you never wrote my name on the top of you, then…" she retorted, not even lending him a glance on her tread to room 304.

"Clever," he smirked, remaining at her side. "I don't even think I can say anything to that."

"Good, I enjoy your silence." She informed him. "And your distance...But, I see you haven't gathered that yet."

"And I love my 4.0 GPA, if you haven't already gathered." He replied. "You're compliance is a 100% for me in the welcoming committee. I guess you can call me a bit of an overachiever," he laughed.

"Really?" she asked. "So, you're like this with all new people?"

"Only the ones I see potential in," he replied once they got into the classroom.

Despite all of the people calling his name to sit next to them, he took the desk next to hers. Placing a notebook and a pen on her desk, she turned to catch his eye.

Looking to the three cheerleaders watching them closely from the other side of the room, she faced him again. Brightening her facial features and clapping her hands together in a loud manner, she mimicked Olivia the best she could. "Finn Hudson sees potential in me! This is totally going down in my diary."

Her face fell again, watching his face curl with laughter. She didn't understand why he found her so amusing. She also couldn't understand why this irked her so much. But, it did. She could only roll her eyes again before turning her remaining attention over to the teacher.

Mr. Stanley was stern. He was an older man, well into his late 50's. He presented with a no-nonsense front and as most of the teenagers around her, including Finn, hated this, she was pretty content. She'd seen many teachers like this before and with them, she'd learned the most.

As he got through his speech on future material and what to expect, he quizzed them on town history.

"In what year was Crystal Willow founded and by whom?" he then pointed to a random girl towards the back of the classroom.

"Uh-"she thought for a moment. "Somewhere in mid-1800's, I'm pretty sure. Q, wasn't it a member from your family?" she asked the blonde on the side of her.

"Yes, his name was Michael I think. He was my great-something." She replied, smiling proudly in the direction of Mr. Stanley. Rachel remembered the voice from before. Quinn, she presumed. The teacher only looked at his feet with a blank expression.

That's when she decided to be smart again and bring even more attention to herself. She didn't know what was with her today.

"Actually, a man with the last name of Maxwell originally founded the land that the town was built on in 1808." She kept her gaze on the book in front of her to avoid any eye contact from the familiar faces in her English class. "His first name was never documented." As the room silenced completely, she sunk into her seat, drawing circles with her eraser.

"It was actually a group of them," Finn added from the side of her. "They were fleeing from Canada. With all of the hardships they faced on the way, they decided to settle. Don't ask me where they got the name from, because I have no idea."

"The bark from a willow tree was used to make medicine long ago. It was kind of used in a figurative sense." Rachel explained all that she'd been taught as a child. "You're wrong, by the way."

"No I'm not," he argued. "I know my town history. What do you know about any of this, anyways? You're from Chicago. You probably haven't even been here for a week." he asked, creating a round of laughter throughout the classroom.

"It was a group of settlers from out west," she informed him in a smart-ass manner, taking in the amused smirk spread across his face. "They weren't fleeing Canada. They were trying to flee America. They didn't even know where they were going. They had a poor sense of direction and were ignorant based on geographical terms. When they found the land area, the colder climates tricked them. They thought that the difference in weather meant they were in a different territory."

She explained further. "They named it Crystal Willow because they found a sense of remedy, or medicine as you will, in their discovery. "As they drank from the crystal clear water from the falls, they celebrated the fact that they had escaped the hardships of their travel. Little did they know, however, that this particular land has some of the harshest winters in the entire country…They might as well have called it Canada."

"But my ancestor still established the town," the blonde added persistently from the back of the classroom. "He's the founder."

"He helped nail a few boards into the library," Rachel argued against her.

Matthew Fabray; she remembered the man as if she had just met him yesterday. Once she had moved from the outskirts of the town, she'd become acquainted with many of the early settlers and he was one of them.

He was a very old man. In his late seventies, if she remembered correctly. However, the age of this man did nothing to affect his personality. The one time she'd spoken with him he failed to pass up the opportunity to inform her on all that he'd done to provide the floor she was standing on in that moment. His arrogance carried on as he described all of his lifetime accomplishments, founding a town at the young age of only 24. And if she thought that this was bad enough, she would never forget the way he spoke of the less fortunate. He used his sailor mouth to describe the rag-like ghetto in the outskirts of his glorious small town. He spoke of people, like her father and the girl that she used to be, as if a burden to his own opinionated view of society. In his eyes, if you didn't have anything to show off, you didn't deserve to be treated like anything higher than a mule. She remembered uncomfortably nodding, resisting the urge to shove her foot far up his groin and throw her glass of wine in his face.

The bastard died a month later, with a statue constructed smack-dab in the middle of the town square to honor his memory. Now, as she sat mid-argument with his ancestor, she realized that she saw no difference.

"The town's archives are in City Hall if you want to brush up on your facts," Finn joked in a whisper. This sent her on the edge of her seat.

"You are all on correct routes," Mr. Stanley finally spoke up. "While Finn and Quinn are speaking on terms of information taught from records and history books created here in the town, Rachel's going more on word."

"I admire that, Rachel, but everything that I've been taught has come from the books and I will have to side with that." He turned to the board to write something on the board then, leaving the class unsupervised behind his back.

With the corner of her eyes, she found his on her. Looking to the side, Finn offered an arrogant smirk. She only sighed, placing her head against her arms on top of the desk, taking in the sound of the girls giggling in the back.

Before Mr. Stanley could continue further, a slight knocking presented itself at the door. She was surprised to take in Santana's voice. "Mr. Stanley, could I possibly speak to my sister real quick?"

"Who would that be, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Rachel Berry," she replied.

"Ms. Berry," he turned in her direction. She jumped from that desk and breezed out of the classroom as if her life depended on it.

When they were left to the privacy of the empty hall way, Santana slapped her arm. With mild reflexes, she went to shove back at her, but Santana caught her arm in time. "What was that for?"

"Are you crazy?" she scolded in a whisper. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"I heard you from a hallway away," she informed her. "Hell, we all did!"

"What were you thinking, Rachel?"

"I'm still confused as to what I did." She told her.

"We're supposed to remain low-key," she sighed. "And we don't stand much of a chance doing that if you feel the need to argue every time the history books don't agree with what actually happened. This is modern America, you know that…"

"Well, I've sat through 20 million history classes over the years so excuse me if the lines have blurred down a bit."

"We're just looking out for you, okay?" Santana assured her. "I just came to warn you."

"No, you're looking out for yourself and the others." Rachel proceeded to ignore the girl's looks of concern. "You came to warn me not screw things up for the four of you."

"Well, the more that you guys treat me like a baby, Santana, the more you're all screwing things up for yourselves. So, if you'll excuse me, I have a class to get back to."

She didn't even offer Santana a chance before she was heading back into the classroom.

"Rachel, come on…"

"Rachel," was the last thing she heard before shutting the door behind her and walking back to her seat. She seemed to fall right into the middle of Mr. Stanley's well-prepared first day lecture. Placing her foot underneath her, she fixed her head on her fist and just listened.

For the first time today, she remained silent and allowed herself to soak up the awful amount of incorrect facts spewing from her teacher's mouth about civilization in the late 1800's. She took in the man's voice; ignoring Finn's common glances in her direction, the whispers about her that she picked up from the far corner of the room, and the loud voice in her mind convincing her to rip them all to shreds.

 _Just breathe, Rachel, just breath…_

"Come on, little one," the man's voice ran through her voice. "We're going to milk Penelope."

"Can I hold the bucket this time, daddy?"

"I'll even let you milk her by your lonesome," With her eyes shut now, she took in Joseph's hand held in her direction. In times like these, she never hesitated to make the little girl in her head take it.

 _Ring, ring, ring…_

The bell ripped her from the daze. Jumping up with the rest of the class, she hurried in hopes of getting out into parking lot before any certain someone could catch up to her again.

"Hey, new girl," Rachel's head snapped backwards when she heard the call. It was Quinn. Exiting from a large group of cheerleaders, the girl sauntered over to her.

"Your name's Rachel, right?" she asked.

"Oh, how I wish it wasn't right about now," she mumbled to herself.

"What?" the girl asked in moderate confusion.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked, wishing the girl would get to the point quickly so she could leave. She knew the others would throw a fit if she wasn't in the car within the next five minutes.

"Is there something going on between you and Finn?" Rachel admired her bluntness to a certain extent.

"Yes," she nodded, watching the girl's face drop. "He's my office-appointed welcoming committee member, as you call it."

"You know what I mean," she pressed, rolling her eyes at the answer.

"And you sound really stupid asking me the question," It was Rachel's turn to be blunt. "No, I'm not into starting things with people I've only known for hours." By the sound of things earlier, it appeared as if she was. "So, he's all yours if you want him."

"He's my ex," she informed her.

"Makes sense," Rachel smiled brightly, turning to head away from the girl.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the girl ran to catch up with her.

"Don't you have cheerleading practice or great-ancestor appreciation club to get to?" Rachel crossed her arms. "Or do you get a kick out of things picking on new kids in your free time?"

"You think you're so smart just because you're from Chicago, don't you?" the girl rolled her eyes. "Well, you're not and you don't know anything about me or any of us here…So, why don't you do all of us a favor and keep your mouth shut next time?"

"It's a history class," Rachel reminded her. "Not fashion week in Paris. I didn't think my answers would have that much of an impact."

"You insulted my family in front of all of my friends. I was humiliated. Of course it made an impact." She crossed her arms.

"Well, I apologize." She rolled her eyes. Is your privileged ass satisfied now, was what she wanted to ask after that. The girl only returned the gesture when her eyes rolled as well.

"Just know that you're on my radar, Berry. Do something like that again and I'll expose you so hard, you'll be running to a new school within the next week."

"Is that really a good choice of words?" Rachel asked, raising an eyebrow. "How far along are you?"

"What?" the girl's face fell in horror.

Taking into account the two heartbeats before her, she stepped an inch closer. "Do your parents know that you're having a baby?"

"How did you-?"

Closing her eyes, she placed both sets of index and middle fingers against her temple, concentrating hard. _Forget about this entire conversation…_ Looking up, she focused on the girl now. _You were in the middle of practice and you got hungry. The vending machines were sold out and you got lost in the halls. You have to head back before your coach finds out you bailed._

"What's going on?" she asked, looking around her. "Where am I?"

"Hall A I think, but I may have looked at the map wrong." Rachel answered, pretending to close a locker. Grabbing her bag, the girl looked at her with disgust.

"Who said you could talk to me?"

"How do you have friends?" Rachel asked silently, watching the girl hurry away.

"Ignore her," the voice was so sudden, it scared her half to death. Turning around, she noticed he had changed. Now, he was sweating profusely, wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and some grass-covered cleats.

"I would, but from previous experience, it appears to have no impact on people." She replied, starting away from him.

"Wait!" he called. The sound of his shoes hitting the tiled floor was all her ears took in.

"And by people, I mean you, Flynn."

"It's Finn." He reminded her again.

"I know; I just like getting a rise out of you."

"I normally don't like smart-asses, but…" he trailed off.

"I'm not a smart-ass. I'm just smart." She told him.

"It didn't seem that way last period," he joked. "Now, who's getting a rise out of whom?"

"Well, the teacher's a dumb-ass." She replied, as they walked out into the parking lot. As expected, the five were gathered around the two cars. "What did you expect?"

"How did you know all of that stuff anyways?"

"There's this thing called a library; almost one on every corner in the city. I guess the history books over there haven't caught up to the ones over here." She explained.

"So you're basically a walking encyclopedia?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I have a good memory," she defended herself, "sue me."

He laughed. "I had fun today."

"That makes one of us," she informed him. "But, you already knew that, so…"

"The perfect start on the road to friendship," he commented, enthusiastically. "One day you're going to look back on all of this and laugh so hard; just you wait and see…"

"I doubt it," she told him, looking to her feet. "Not anytime soon."

"Well, maybe tomorrow at, say, 7:50?" he looked at an imaginary clock on his wrist. "That's what time I'm expected to report to your locker for the next week."

"Good luck with that," she said before turning and heading towards the others.

"Hey, Berry!" his voice called, gaining the attention of all of them. Turning to look at Finn, she ignored the questioning looks coming from the group. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"In your dreams," she rolled her eyes.

"I'm counting on it."

* * *

 **For Copyright's sake, i'm going to say that i do not own any of the songs listed in this chapter, as well as the poems and books mentioned. :)**


	5. She Hates Tuesdays

**Chapter 4**

He found Mike sitting alone on the sofa once he'd gotten home that night from practice. As usual, the man paid him no attention; the man never paid any of them attention. They were perfectly content with this.

It was only when he lifted the bottle of beer to his hands that Finn noticed it. As the man tilted his head back for a swig of the drink, the dark blue and purple bruise that ran along the man's jaw-line came into Finn's view.

Sighing, he threw his keys on the holder before making a point to kneel in front of the middle-aged man. Moving his hands towards the man's face, he slightly brushed it against the lining. When the man only pushed him away, Finn moved to the next room to retrieve an ice pack from the fridge.

"What happened?" he asked, returning to the side of him on the sofa.

"I fell," he sighed, ripping the pack from Finn's hand.

"You went to the bar again this afternoon, didn't you?" Finn pried. "You said the wrong thing to the wrong person and you got into another fight, huh?"

"You know what, Finn? I just really want to watch my show. So, if you could leave me alone about all of this, it'd be great. Don't you have homework to get to or something?"

"My first day of senior year and you're asking me about homework?" Finn shook his head. "No, I don't. I'm just really concerned about you, Mike. Who did this to you?"

"I appreciate it, Finn, I really do. But, that's just not your place. When the state forced me to sign the adoption papers, I became the parent." Finn was used to Mike's feelings of them. However, that didn't mean his words hurt any less. "Go, get prepared for bed. You're not pulling another all-nighter."

"Have a good night."

Throwing in the towel, Finn rose from the man's side, grabbing his bags from the floor and stomping into his room. He didn't fail to make his anger known when he slammed the door behind him. After another few moments, Toni and Percy popped their curious heads in.

"What the fuck's got you all mad and slamming doors?" Percy asked, being the first to officially barge into his room. Toni followed shortly behind her, closing the door behind him.

"I care too much," he spat, "That's my problem."

"What are you talking about?" Toni asked, joining him on the side of his bed.

"How is that a problem?" Percy added, following Toni's actions on the other side of Finn.

"I feel like a welcome mat," he admitted. "With my inability to see other people hurt, they think that it's okay to just walk all over me."

"Is this about Quinn again?" Toni asked, rolling his eyes.

"He brushed me off again," Finn told the two. "I don't know, you'd think by now, I'd be used to it; to the words."

"Well, what did you expect, Finn?" Percy asked, placing a supportive hand on his back. "We ruined Mike's life. He's angry with us. No amount of convincing will ever be able to change that."

"I know that," he assured the two of them when Toni nodded in agreement. "It's just that I wanted him to see that I cared; that I wasn't just some inhabitant in his home."

"You're a really good person, Finnegan." Percy commented, patting his shoulder. "Never forget that. Sometimes I wish I could be half as good as you are. Then, I remember that I'm antisocial and think that it's probably for the best that I'm not."

"It's just a broad fact to life, bro. Not everyone's going to be as nice as you want them to be. You can't change people. You just have to continue to be yourself." Toni explained.

"What happened to Mike's face, anyways?" he asked the two. "Did he tell you?"

"Percy hit him."

"Way to throw me under the bus, dude," she exclaimed, hitting Toni's shoulder from the back of Finn.

"What?" Finn asked with wide eyes, turning over to Percy. "What does he mean, you hit him?"

"It all happened so fast," she sighed.

"I accused him of getting into another bar fight!" he yelled.

"Well, technically he doesn't remember anything that happened." She talked her way around Finn.

"Why would you hit him, Percy?" Finn asked. "I thought we all agreed that nothing violent was to come out of moving up here."

"I know," she admitted sheepishly, "And I didn't mean to. It was all out of self-defense, really…"

"Self-defense?" Finn asked, crossing his arms.

"You know how he gets when he's drinking," she told them. "I thought Carole would've been home by the time I got back, but she wasn't. She picked up an extra shift at the hospital, or whatever. Anyways, the two of you had football so I was stuck alone in the house with him."

"He started yelling at me about something stupid and when I ignored him, he went to hit me. Since he was drunk, he tripped over his foot and caught my fist instead."

"Are you serious?" Finn asked.

She shrugged her shoulders," He knew not to mess with me. In a way, it's sort of ironic."

"See, Finn, another example of how people are…" Toni chuckled. "Percy's insane and probably will be the reason we get killed by Mike."

"Are you kidding me?" she nudged his shoulder. "I'm a bad bitch."

"Speaking of people," she continued. "Toni and I have been meaning to tell you something."

"You'll never guess what we saw at lunch today." Toni added in just as much excitement as Percy. "She looks just like her."

"I know," Finn told the two of them. "I'm assigned to her with the Committee."

"Who is she?" Percy asked. "You don't think that it could really be her, do you?"

"She died, remember?" Finn reminded the two. "They made sure of it."

Before they could continue their discussion, a light knocking presented itself at the door. Moving their heads to the side, they watched Carole slowly stick her head into the door.

"You're back!" Percy was the first to jump from the bed and hug the woman tightly. Finn and Toni followed shortly after.

"How come I didn't get an invite to the party?" she joked.

"You were on the list," Percy smiled, "We promise."

"We missed you," Finn added.

"Well, lucky enough for you all, I get a few days off this week." She informed them with a wide smile. "Now, before I feel the need to wonder why all of you are up so late, how about you tell me all about your first day of senior year?"

"Only if you make banana pancakes tomorrow," Toni bargained.

"With extra syrup," Carole smiled.

The conversation continued until about midnight. That's when everyone began to usher out of Finn's room and into their own. Before Finn could move to close his door and turn the light off to try and get the sleep he needed, Carole stopped him.

"So, I talked to Mike when I got in," she began. "He told me what happened. He told me that you hit him and felt bad so you gave him an ice pack afterwards."

His heart fell in disappointment, "Do you believe him?"

"No," she sighed, shaking her head. "It's just that he has a bruise on the side of his face and I'm a little concerned, that's all."

Before he could answer, his eyes caught Percy watching from the small crack in the door with terror-filled eyes. He didn't want to make it known, however, so he turned back to the woman standing in front of him.

Sighing, he spoke again. "He was drunk again when I got home tonight. He started yelling at me for something about the dishes or whatever, and he thought I was ignoring him. When he went to hit me, he tripped over his feet and ran into my fist. It was all out of self-defense, Carole; I swear." He looked down as she sighed, rubbing a hand against his shoulder. "It won't happen again."

"Remember what I told the three of you?" she whispered. "When something like that happens, I don't care when it is, I want you to call me."

"I didn't want to bother you," he told her. "Percy said that you took an extra shift."

"That doesn't matter," she replied. "I want you guys to call me."

"Okay," he nodded, "I promise, next time I will."

"Good," she smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead. "Now, get to bed. You have an early morning ahead."

"Good night, Carole." he replied, moving towards his door.

"Good night, youngster," she smiled before turning the corner, towards the living room.

Before he could move to shut his door, Percy tiptoed back into his room. "Thank you for doing that for me. You didn't have to."

"It's no big deal. We're a team; the three of us. Just, don't do it again." He warned, pointing his index finger. "Three strikes and we're onto another home. You can't forget that."

"I know," she nodded, heading back to her room. "Goodnight, Finnegan."

Despite his recent sleeplessness, tonight seemed really easy for him. The moment his head hit the pillow, he was out. He assumed it was the long day catching up to him. Whatever it was, he lathered in it. As he snoozed on, a certain dream made its way to his head.

" _It's beautiful out here," her voice moved into his brain. He watched her bend over to pick up a dark purple wild flower._

" _Well, you spend all of your time in that horrid town, these days. I figured I'd help you open your eyes to what's outside of it; past the falls."_

" _If only things were simpler," she started._

" _Hey," he caressed her cheek. "You're with me now, things are simpler."_

" _If he finds out-"_

" _He won't," he assured her. "It's just you and me out here right now," he pulled her into his arms, turning to face the pasture of wild flowers that spread for miles; "The way it's supposed to be."_

" _I love you, Amelia." He smiled down at her, twirling her around in his arms._

" _I love you too," the smile coming from her small lips melted his heart to a liquid form. "More than anything else that I've ever known, I promise."_

 _When they fell onto the flowers, her loud, obnoxious giggles were the first thing to fill his mind. Pointing in an upwards direction, he watched the clouds move above them. "Look at that one! What do you see?"_

" _A star," he smiled. "What about that one?"_

" _An elephant!" she giggled, curling into his shoulder. "What about that one?"_

" _A heart," she looked to him with a knowing gaze, "For us."_

" _For us," he agreed, fitting his chin into her neck. They fell asleep like this._

" _Finnegan," her voice called out. "Finnegan, it's time to wake up."_

He remained confused a moment as complete silence surrounded them. That's when he felt it. An ice-cold, wet substance surrounded him; causing him to jolt up in bed. Percy and Toni were standing before his bed with an empty bucket in their arms and smirks coming from their faces.

"What the fuck was that for?" he exclaimed, getting up.

"We figured you could use a cold shower," Percy chuckled.

"Your wet dream is showing," Toni added, trying to sustain his laughter. Looking downwards, all color drained out of his face when he realized his member was bulging out against his gym shorts. The two laughed hysterically as he covered himself with a pillow and bolted for the bathroom.

Once he was out of the shower, the two were waiting for him at the counter in the kitchen. As Carole placed the mixture on the iron, Toni and Percy made no effort to hide their giggles behind her back.

"Finnegan," Toni greeted.

"You got that, uh, situation covered up?" Percy asked. When Finn smacked her lightly on the shoulder, Carole joined the conversation.

"What situation?"

"You owe me," Finn reminded her of last night in a hushed voice. As Carole made her way towards the three, Percy thought hard to put something together.

"Finn forgot to complete an assignment last night," she told her. "But, he did it just now so, it's all good."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that you finished it," the woman smiled. "Now, dig in. There's plenty to go around!"

After breakfast was complete, they were heading out the door in the same fashion as they had yesterday morning. The only difference, when he got to school, he rushed out of the Porsche with purpose.

He arrived to the office at around 7:30 with the most enthusiasm he'd ever possessed for school. As he picked up his daily assignments for student council and signed in on the clipboard, he greeted incoming faculty members as they maneuvered around the main office.

"Good morning, Mrs. Helen." He smiled at the elderly woman positioning herself in the office chair.

"Well, hello, Finn." She smiled politely.

"Good morning, Finn," Ms. Cara offered as she emptied out her filing box.

"Good morning Ms. Cara." He smiled in return.

"Principal Figgins," Finn greeted as he passed the elder man.

"Good morning, Finn." He smiled before thinking of something else. "I wanted to ask you; did everything go okay yesterday with Ms. Berry?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so…"

When he gave him a questioning look, Finn explained further. "We're still getting to know each other. She hasn't really gotten around to opening up to anyone yet. But, I'm working on it."

"Well, that's good to hear." He smiled, heading for the door. "Keep up the good work!"

"Thanks!" Finn called, and then he was out.

Ms. Sommers was the last person he greeted before he was out as well and back into the halls. By now it was 7:45 and he had to be by Rachel's locker for 7:50 if he wanted to maintain that A.

As he walked down the halls, he smiled as people greeted him from both sides. Left and right, it was a rare occasion when he wasn't offered a "hey, Finn", or a "good morning, how's it going?"

"Hey Tina," he smiled, approaching the girl digging for something in her bag. "Are you doing okay today? Here, do you need some help with that?"

"Please, I can't find my pen. I put it right here last night." She sighed in a panicked manner. "I don't know where it went. I hope it didn't fall out."

"Is this it?" he asked, fishing out the blue, pointed object.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "You're a life saver!"

He chuckled, backing away. "Just let me know if you need anything else."

There were a few minutes to spare when he arrived to the metal compartment that Rachel called her own. He smiled, standing there and greeting others as they passed. He even smiled to the other committee members as they arrived to their designated person's lockers. He looked like a complete idiot, he knew that. But there was something about this time that was different.

Once some of the familiar faces of the five made their way to his view, his heart sped. He knew that she'd be around the corner and heading towards him in any minute. He tried desperately to keep his composure together, abandoning the thought to move towards her. Placing his hands in the pockets of his letterman, he tipped back and forth on his feet, searching face after face for the short brunette.

It kept his hopes up for a little while. Then, they dropped. Just after the fourth face had come into his view, he searched closely behind to find her. However, as the minutes passed her face was never one he took in. The other members of the committee looked at him with suspicious eyes as they moved past him with their partners, leaving him in a slowly-emptying hallway.

That was when the blonde came up to him. The squeaky voice took him off-guard at first, but once he got used to it, he was okay.

"You're Finn Hudson, right?" she asked, staring up at him with a certain look. It was as if he'd cured cancer in her eyes.

"Uh-yeah," he smiled, holding his hand out for her to shake. "It's nice to meet you, uh…" he trailed off before she answered for him.

"It's Olivia," she offered, taking his hand in hers.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Olivia." He smiled. He felt like a complete jerk as she spoke on without a word being processed in his head. All he could do was look over her head and down the hallway, wondering where his partner was.

"You're looking for Rachel, aren't you?" she asked when she realized he wasn't paying attention to what she was saying.

"I'm really sorry," he offered. "It's just that-" he stopped himself and retraced his words. "Do you know where she is?"

"Not the slightest clue," she trailed on. "She took off the moment we got out of the car. This morning wasn't really good for her. Well, now thinking about it, no morning is really good for her. I don't know, I guess it's kind of her thing. She likes to be sad all of the time. But, she won't ever tell us what she's sad about. She just gets mad at us when we try to help her." Realizing that she was talking circles around his brain, she placed a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry; I probably shouldn't have told you all of that. I have a habit of talking a lot. She's somewhere around here. She shouldn't be too much longer."

"So you play football?" she asked, taking in his jacket.

"Yeah," he smiled. "I'm the quarterback."

"I bet you are," she winked, throwing him off-guard. He then realized that she was flirting with him, making him a little more anxious to spot Rachel walking in their direction. But, she wasn't, so the blonde carried on. "My brother's actually trying out for the team this afternoon. He's really good," she assured him. "He was actually the quarterback in Chicago."

"Really?" Finn asked.

"Yeah," she smiled. "Rachel and I actually have to go with him this afternoon because Elliot and Santana's car doesn't have enough room for us and our parents have to work. I think that's one of the reasons Rachel was so pissy this morning. But, I'm excited," she assured him.

"Rachel's really coming?" he pressed.

"If she shows up," Olivia replied. Before she could continue, Kurt turned the corner.

"Okay, let's get to class before we're late." He told her.

"Okay," she smiled. "It was nice meeting you. I'll see you later, okay?"

"See yah," he smiled, waving her off.

When they were out of sight, Finn let out a large breath he didn't know that he was holding in.

He would never be mean to anyone; Olivia seemed like a very nice girl. But, he was a little wary about becoming a potential friend of hers in the future. He could sense the crush from a mile away. And, although he was used to it by now from many girls around campus, there was just a way about her that reminded him too much of Quinn, and he wasn't ready to open that sore yet.

Don't get him wrong, the girl was drop-dead gorgeous; he even liked her voice. The fact that she could talk for hours may have come off as a bit annoying, but the girl seemed like a sweetheart; very pure, nice, and ignorant to the dark parts of the world. He knew that any guy would be lucky to have her. However, right now, his mind was somewhere else.

It was closing in on 8:00 by now and the halls were beginning to turn vacant. The only people in sight were late-comers, rushing in to make it to their class in time. As the first bell rang, his last shred of hope went along with it. He didn't just want to leave, but with a GPA to maintain, he'd figured it best that he make his way to his first class. It was now five minutes before the tardy bell and totally obvious that she wasn't going to show.

That's what he assumed as he turned to walk in the other direction. Then, with the slightest of a sound from behind him, papers were scattered all over the floor and the cursing from her voice were soaring through the air.

Turning around, he found her. She looked different today, he thought. Instead of the star-wars shirt and the black hoodie, she had on a black shirt with a purple hoodie. Her shoes also seemed to be different as well. She was wearing white high-tops today.

He rushed to bend down with her. She moved like lightening to retrieve all of the paper's she'd dropped. He could only imagine the embarrassment she was suffering right now. He felt bad and wanted to punch every pass-byer that laughed. He knew what it was like to be the new-comer. All of the extra attention was anything but comforting.

"I got it," she whispered, keeping her eyes on the floor.

"Let me help you," he replied. "We're going to be late for class."

"I don't care," she threw back, harsher this time.

"How is that not surprising?" he laughed, trying to lighten the mood with the steady banter they'd developed yesterday.

"Just leave me alone, okay?" she exclaimed. That's when he heard it. There was something different in her voice. She almost sounded nasally. When he heard her sniff, he looked up at her.

Her face was bright red. With bloodshot eyes and damp cheeks, she kept her face down, scrambling across the tile to get out of there as fast as she could. She'd been crying.

"Why are you crying?" he asked as she finally stood up and stuffed everything into her locker. "What's wrong?"

"You don't know me," she told him, sticking her head in her locker as her lips began to quiver. "So, just don't, okay?"

"I was just trying to-"

She cut him off with the slamming of her locker door. Before she nearly sprinted in the opposite direction, she spat, "Just, don't…"

She was off then, and this time, he let her walk away.

The class was full by the time he cut through the door. He missed the bell by the slightest second, Ms. Bankston giving him a look of warning. If his mind wasn't so crowded, he'd have given it a bit of consideration. But today, he simply brushed it off.

She'd changed positions today. He remembered watching her run for the first desk in the row yesterday. But now, she sank as far back as she could, in the last seat, all the way at the other end of the room. Her face was buried in her arms as the rest of the class chatted away.

"Mr. Hudson, have a seat, will you?" Ms. Bankston placed a light hand against his shoulder.

He panicked for a moment as attention was drawn towards him. All seats were filled by her; all seats were filled, period. Well, with the exception of one towards the middle of the classroom. The one desk he'd been avoiding since yesterday; the one desk that was opposite to a certain blonde ex of his.

Swallowing whatever shred of pride he still possessed, he slowly made his way toward the unoccupied wooden setup. His eyes never left her figure in the process. Something was definitely wrong and he'd get to the bottom of it, whatever it took. It's who he was and what he did. He was responsible for her and it was never in his intention to let any problem go unsolved.

School dragged on, much like he figured it would. It seemed like a matter of light years before the bell rang for his second class of the day. His things had already been gathered in his book-bag from doing completely nothing for the past hour in Ms. Bankston's class. So, when the bell rang, he rushed to get to her side again.

However, she spun out of the way at the last moment and lost him in the crowd; completely hopeless. Never, had he ever, had someone as difficult to handle as this girl. He puffed a stressful sigh, moving to his locker to switch out his books.

With the light-heart he had, he had to admit that his feelings were a bit hurt. He knew it was nothing to take personally. She was having a bad day and he was just caught in the line of fire, being the only one brave enough to actually talk to her. However, the whole thing had been playing through his head and he couldn't stand how much of an actual idiot he was earlier.

He tried to joke with her. What kind of guy did that when she was visibly not okay? He knew what kind of guy; a dick-head jock. He internally took himself into a dark alley and beat the living shit out of him thinking about the whole thing. He should've allowed her the space when she first asked for it.

 _When a girl tells you to leave her alone, you leave her alone, Finn…_ He caught a chill from the cringe his body presented, moving into second period.

He sunk into the desk he'd picked out earlier yesterday morning. It was a bit relieving, knowing that he had time to think without having to see her again for another hour and feel guiltier than he already did. According to the schedule he was given, her second period was computer skills with Mr. Matthew Michaels. He, on the other hand, was stuck in advanced algebra with Mrs. Mills. And when he said the word stuck, he really meant stuck.

Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to drift in and out for the remaining time he'd be in there. There were a few muffled voices here and there, but for the most part, he got the sleep he'd been missing out on. When the bell rang again, he awoke with a startle, brushing a line of drool away with the sleeve of his letterman.

Lunch time rolled around just when Finn thought he'd never get through to it. Grabbing a tray in the cafeteria, he stood in line until it was his turn to be served.

"How are you today, Martha?" he asked the lunch woman he'd seen for as long as he'd been here. She was a bit unpleasant, but he never once let that stop him. When she looked up to see Finn, her pout rose into the brightest smile he's ever seen. He loved when he could do that to people.

"I'm doing pretty well," she replied. "Would you like some extra mac and cheese with your lunch today?"

"Is that even a question?" He laughed, watching her scoop the food on the corner of his plate.

"Have a nice day," she told him as he got to the end of the line.

"You do the same," he offered in return before facing the man at the register. "Hello, Jimmy." He smiled at the elder man.

"Hey, Finn!" he smiled, waiting for the money. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed a twenty. "Keep the change."

Before the man could protest, Finn grabbed his plate and headed for the courtyard. Now, sitting at his normal table with his normal group of friends, he picked at his fries while conversing with the people around him.

"Hudson!" Mike Chang called, walking towards the group with a football in his hands, "Heads up!"

Without thinking, he caught the ball in his two hands. "Are you trying to work that throwing hand so coach doesn't get on your ass like she did yesterday in front of all the new guys?" Finn asked; a round of laughter traveled over from the group of guys behind them.

He rolled his eyes, "Get up and throw the damn ball with me before I ask Puckerman instead."

"That was low," he told him.

"I can go lower," he joked. Finn wouldn't test it. Setting his fry down, he got into a stance before curling his hand back, watching the ball leave the tip of his fingers.

"Now, that's how it's done, Chang," Finn chuckled. "You want to take notes?"

"I wouldn't be able to concentrate. Your ego's in the way."

"Real funny," he rolled his eyes.

"Looks like you got an admirer, Hudson." Jamie Pierson commented, pointing to a table halfway across the quad. At the last minute, the blonde looked away before their eyes could meet.

Finn only smiled politely when the guy patted him on the back. "Olivia's a nice girl."

"Olivia, huh?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're already on a first name basis?"

"When did that happen?" Jamie asked.

"I can think of one way," Mike winked. "Oh, oh, oh Finn, Oh Finn! Yeah girl, back that ass up for me-"

Finn cut off the both of them, mid-laughter. "How do you have a girlfriend, Chang?" Finn chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm hot, that's how." He smirked, moving forward for a full bottle of water sitting on the table.

"You're seriously saying you wouldn't bang that if you got the chance?" Jamie asked, pointing to the blonde who was now facing the other three members of the family he'd become so accustomed to within the two days he'd known them. As expected, the fifth member wasn't with them. "Are you gay?" Jamie asked.

When Finn only rolled his eyes, he continued, "I would".

"Oh, we all know that you would," Finn commented with sarcasm.

"Did you guys see her sister?" Tanner Stevens jumped into the conversation. "And, I'm not talking about the hot Latino."

"The goth one?" Jamie asked.

"I have third period with her." He told them. "The girl's a total freak-show. She looks like she bites the heads off of bats."

"C'mon guys-" Finn tried to metal in.

"Oh, that's right… Finnessa, we forgot she was you partner for the homo-explosion committee." Tanner chuckled.

"You guys don't know her," he told them.

"Right, because that would totally change everything…"

"She's still a person, like everyone else, with feelings and stuff."

"She has feelings alright," Tanner chuckled. "The girl dresses like she's attending a funeral every day of her life."

"Look at him," Mike laughed. "He's so defensive; the guy's totally fucking her."

"Is that why you wouldn't take a second glance at Olive over there?" Jamie asked, totally butchering the girl's name. "Have we lost you to grave-yard girl?"

"Has anyone ever told you guys that you're a disgrace to the human race?" Finn asked, brushing off the questions as a joke.

They thought for a moment, before replying "no", in sync with one another.

"Well, you're all a disgrace to the human race." He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not sleeping with anyone. However, I will lose brain cells if I stay here, arguing with you three idiots. See you later." He waved to them before heading in the opposite direction.

Dumping his tray into the trash, he suddenly spotted her. Her knees were pressed to her chest, sitting at a bench on the far end of the courtyard. Her earphones were in as she read a book with a name he wasn't familiar with.

Not taking a moment to second guess things, or wait for an invitation, he plopped himself on the side of her. It took her a few moments, but when she took the first earphone out, he knew she was beginning to acknowledge his presence.

"The weather's ugly today," he cringed the moment the words left his mouth. _Of course the weather's ugly, Finnegan; the weather is always ugly._

"And, you're annoying me…" she sighed, lowering the book. "Any other obvious facts you want to point out?"

"She speaks," he smiled. "I was beginning to think I lost you."

"If only I was that lucky…" she mumbled.

"What?" he asked, pretending he didn't hear.

"Today's not a good day for me, Finn," she told him. "I just really want to be left alone."

"Why?" he pushed for more than he should have, looking down to the book she'd since then closed. Her fingers clenched around the edges.

"Because," she thought for a moment, turning to him when he figured she'd come up with a reasonable answer, "I hate Tuesdays."

"She hates Tuesdays," he repeated, nodding his head up and down, trying to process it. The randomness of it all seemed to throw him off a bit.

"And Mondays, and Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and-"he cut her off.

"Is there any days of the week that you do like?" he chuckled.

"The ones where you don't chase me down every two seconds," she admitted.

"How did I know that was coming?" he thought out loud, amused at how serious she was being.

"Because you never seem to get the hint that I like my solitude."

"Why do you like solitude so much?" he asked. "Wouldn't it be nice to say you have at least one friend?"

"For Will, Emma, and the rest of them maybe…" she replied. "But, not me. I don't like people."

"She doesn't like people…"

"What are you doing? Stop doing that." She sighed.

"I'm thinking of words for when I write my book about you." "Now, when you say people, you mean-"

"I don't like people. It's as simple as that."

"So, you don't like yourself, then?" he wondered with a smirk. "Or are you some Martian extra-terrestrial creature that sets you aside?"

Within a glimpse of a second he caught a certain shimmer in her eyes he hadn't seen all day. He knew that somewhere deep within her, under that huge wall that he assumed she had up, she thought that what he said was funny; even if it was in the slightest sense.

"Oh come on, you know I'm hilarious." He nudged her elbow. "It's okay to laugh."

"You can't tell right now, but I'm hard-core judging you." She assured him.

"Well, that's better than seeing you cry." He told her. She dropped her composure the moment he spoke. Staring to the ground, he knew he'd made her uncomfortable. That didn't help to stop the next question that left his mouth. "Why were you crying?"

Like lightening, she grabbed her bag from the side of her. Brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she faced him one last time. "My next class is actually all the way across campus, so I have to go."

"We have the same class." He reminded her.

"I have to go," she repeated with a little more force.

Her mood dropped again as he thought things were beginning to look up. She retreated to the back of the class again for the last two periods of the school day. Along with this, the bright red shade returned to her face, and she seemed to return to her crying state.

He felt horrible, thinking that what he'd asked her had any indication on how sour her day had turned once again. There was just something about her that caused him to act so stupid. It seemed like he was so obsessed with getting her to open up to him that his actions drove her to do the opposite. He wanted, so bad, to prove to Mrs. Chang that he was the right person for the job. He wanted to prove to Rachel that he was the friend she knew she could confide in. God knows he could've used one on his first day in this school. He had to get a grip. He had to come up with another method that was just a little more effective.

As the student body crowded out of the halls after the final bell of the day rang, Finn decided that it would be best just to head to the locker rooms and prepare for tryouts. Since he was the quarterback, he knew coach Beiste would depend on him to show some of the new guys how they did things on the field before they began.

Grabbing his duffle bag out of his locker, he began walking in that direction. She was standing against the lockers on the far side of the hall, waiting impatiently; it seemed like, for someone to show up. If he had to guess, it would be Olivia.

He thought of just walking past her. He knew that she'd appreciate it. But, when it actually came time to it, his soft heart wouldn't let him. Digging into his bag, he pulled out a pack of tissues he'd stuffed in there somewhere around last May.

Raising it up to her, she looked at it as if it were a grenade; about ready to blow up in her face. Meeting his eyes then, her confusion seemed to linger on.

"It's a peace offering," he smiled sympathetically, pointing to her stuffy nose. "I hope you feel better tomorrow. Maybe we can get a second-start at our awaiting friendship."

Before she could say anything, he placed the pack in her hands and headed for the field. That's when he heard it. It was light and foggy at most, but it was still something. And he listened closely. His face lifted into an ear-to-ear grin when he took in the two words.

"T-thank you."

* * *

 **Thank you all for expressing your thoughts on the story so far! I look forward to posting the next chapter! :) -Kat**


	6. Change Me If You Can

**Chapter 5**

It hadn't been long that they'd been here. A few days were the most. So, adjustment hadn't really begun yet. However, as Rachel watched historical buildings and statues of Willow Falls pass through the car window, she felt a rare longing to be back in the loud noise that was Chicago.

It wasn't even that she liked Chicago. In fact, she hated being there. The loud sound of the city, the various people everywhere she went, and the constant cravings that she'd always happen to get was always a problem for her. But, even there she longed to be back in the state that they had transferred from before then. Maybe it was just a part of moving constantly and not being able to stay in the same place for too long. Or, maybe she'd just never be satisfied because she had already had the best all of those years ago.

She'd just have to get used to it because there was nothing that she could do about it. Well, there was the option of running away that she'd always had before. But, she knew that she wouldn't survive one day without killing someone without this "family". As annoying and persistent as they were, she needed them. She was stuck.

So, for now, she could only do what she usually did best; block out the rest of the world as the hole in her heart ached further. Throwing her attention into the song that was playing through her ears and clenching the pack of tissues that she'd received moments before, she drowned out the annoying voice of the blonde in the passenger seat as she rambled on and on about her day at the new school.

They had stayed behind for what seemed like all afternoon. Since Sam was their means of transportation, Rachel and Olivia really didn't have any other choice. So, for a while they sat on the bleachers and watched Sam run around and try out for a sport that Rachel never really understood.

About halfway through, Olivia decided to turn to her and start jibber-jabbering about the Hudson boy she wasn't exactly fond of at the moment. She didn't know what he wanted from her. Yes, he'd gone on and on about his grades. But, it was one class; he'd get over it. If he knew what was best for him, he'd take the hint that she'd been so desperately trying to pass on.

She didn't understand why he was trying so desperately to be her friend. Everyone else seemed to think what they normally thought; she was the freak. She wondered why he didn't think that way about her. What was so different in his mind? Everything within her told her that this whole thing was dangerous. He seemed like a nice boy. He deserved a long, happy, human life; a life he wouldn't get to live out if he kept pushing her like he did this morning. She didn't want to hurt him, but at the same time, she knew that she would have no choice if her body convinced her enough.

Every urge within her came forward when he was in her wake. Her veins screeched; her tongue remained locked down under her pointed teeth. Every time he moved to try and be near her, all she could hear was his heart beating; all she could smell was the blood that she would give anything to lather in.

"I'm hoping that he and Sam hit it off so I can get to know him better. Wouldn't it be amazing if we had him over at the house? I can already picture the wedding." It seemed as if the more excited she got, the more annoying her voice became. "Look at him run. Isn't he just the dreamiest?"

"Didn't you just meet him yesterday morning?" Rachel asked. Her interest was clearly a world away.

"Well, technically I just saw him yesterday. But, he talked to me at the lockers this morning when you didn't show up and he's really sweet."

"Super…" Rachel stated, getting up and beginning to exit the bleachers. There wasn't anything she hated more than human high school drama like this. She'd already made that point very clear.

"Wait, where are you going? Rachel?" she called.

She kept walking. She didn't stop until she was in the corridors, heading for the small red door that read "Women" on the front. The nearest stall seemed to have her name on it. The light was broken and no light shown on the small area. She rushed inside to shut the door behind as though someone would catch her. The bathroom was empty, but her mind wasn't.

Before long, those same tears came rushing back behind her eyes. Pulling the pack from her suitcase, she was burying her face into the tissue paper again. Her shaky hands clung to it as if that would change anything.

There was no secret in the fact that she was depressed. If it wasn't for the fact that her father had left her all alone to choke in this cruel world, it was the big mistake that she had made long ago when she chose immortality. Offered to her when in a sick need of revenge, she mindlessly accepted, not knowing the miserable consequences that would accompany it within time.

Of course, there was always the option of flipping it off. This referred to a mental switch that all vampires possessed in their heads. You could balance your emotions with the flip of a light switch, on and off. That's exactly how she had gotten through the first couple of decades.

She remembered the familiar position of holding her head back in pleasure while the warm liquid pooled in her mouth. She remembered the feeling of her tongue running against her fangs, trying to savor the taste while holding the limp frame up in her arms and dancing to the loud music that usually filled the air. She'd rip through towns and cities, leaving a trail of bodies and scarred eyes without a trace of any remorse. She was on top of the world with the knowledge that no one would ever be able to catch her and if they did, she was indestructible.

She wouldn't lie and say that it didn't feel good. In all honesty, it was the most alive that she had ever been and she loved it. Her hunger was always fulfilled and the thought of her father's death didn't make her want to kill herself like it had when she was human. But, in the end, everything became routine. Boredom overcame her to the point where she decided to snatch-and-erase. She'd find someone, drink enough blood, and then compel them to forget everything.

She remembered that that was how they found her. She sat in a bar on Bourbon Street in New Orleans, downing a bottle of scotch that she'd compelled from the bartender. Bobbing her head to the loud jazz that filled the room, she watched the many couples dance in the middle of the floor. The year was 1941 and all Americans were in a stage of celebrations, drunken nights, and random one night stands, for they knew that this could be the last time. Drafting had begun, and troops were being sent to defend the country in World War II.

By that time, she was exhausted. She had been at that bar since five that afternoon, dancing with the married couples or single, soon-to-be war troops. She knew that she had drunk from every single person, and she was beginning to become frustrated.

That's when she came in and sat next to her. The Latino was hard to miss with the loud clicking of the heels and the bright yellow dress. A thought had already occurred to her, not even a minute after she'd taken in the girl with her eyes. She was about to start making her rounds again with the people dancing on the dance floor, so she decided she'd start with her. When she sat down and ordered a martini, Rachel turned to face her.

" _That's a pretty fancy dress for a place like this."_ The drunken slur that she didn't know she was carrying bubbled from within her, touching every word.

" _You should consider how much room you have before you decide to speak like that,"_ the girl replied over the music, with a seemingly amused tone and expression. _"Are you coming from a funeral? I hear this town does em' best."_ she asked, referring to Rachel's tall back heels, tightly fitted black dress, and black netted hat that sat over her long brunette curls.

" _Isn't everyday a funeral?"_ Rachel added, putting a metaphorical spin on her words. It was a sick technique that she picked up before she'd attack a person.

Straining, her fangs suddenly became present as she felt the veins draw themselves under her eyes that she assumed were bloodshot by this point. Reaching forward, she grabbed the woman not failing to notice the oddness of the lack of shock or fear in her face. That was when she felt it.

A sharp pain began in her neck and then every muscle and bone in her body tensed up. The only thing she could feel now was the stinging sensation that was beginning to travel down her body from its entrance point at her neck. For the first time in seven decades, fear rose in her chest. As she laid paralyzed in the brunettes arms, she knew that she had been caught and assumed that her end was near. She held no surprise when the thought that this was all of his doing surfaced in her head.

" _Wow, you're one of a kind aren't you?"_ the woman whispered in her ear _. "The others at least built up the suspense, but you… you don't play around. All we had to do to find you were following the trail of bodies from the east coast that lead to here. It's actually pretty remarkable, if you don't mind me saying so…"_

Rachel suddenly cursed the fact that she had compelled the whole bar not to notice her. Then, as her weak head rested against her shoulder she smelled her neck, realizing that it probably wouldn't have made a difference. This girl was like her. With all her might she tried to form words, but whatever was seeping through her veins was just too strong. That's when she felt her eye lids begin to shut and the sound of the brunette's voice fill her head.

" _But, unfortunately, your time has to come to an end, sunshine. Louisiana is my home state and too much of a beautiful place for you to do any of that here."_ With a slight movement she groaned, and felt herself being slung over her shoulders _. "Let's get going. We have a long ride ahead of us."_

Her hearing was beginning to fade while being surrounded in complete darkness. Her eyes were forced shut long ago.

" _Pardon me, my darling. How rude of me to forget to introduce myself? Santana, Santana Lopez."_

It must've not taken long for her to come back to, because her weakened body was brought back to realization when she was being carried to a group of people waiting by the river-walk down by the Mississippi River, a few blocks within walking distance of Bourbon Street.

Little did she know that she'd soon encounter an extreme endurance from torture, long periods of starvation, and the harsh flow of feelings back into her body once she'd turned the flip back on. She was forced to become reacquainted with the guilt, fear, and most of all, anger. Little by little, they brought her back to the feeling of wanting to kill herself. And with the beauty of immortality, as the girl described to her human self before, you could live forever.

Her mind came back to herself sitting in the bathroom earlier this afternoon. The last thing she remembered was the stinging pain as she dragged her thumb nail across her wrist. She watched the blood start to build up, and then watched as the scar disappeared from her skin. She couldn't tell you why she decided to do it. There really was no point, seeing that her efforts were useless. She wasn't human, so any scar she would have disappeared within the length of a few seconds. She guessed it was just an attempt to take her mind away for a moment. Maybe it was a defense mechanism from the rumbling of contradicting self-worth thoughts going around in her head. All she could say was that it relieved her. It always had.

Before she knew it, the sound of a door swinging open interrupted her. She suddenly realized that she was no longer alone in the bathroom. She'd have to think of a better get away next time, because unfortunately for this bathroom, it wasn't sealed off from the public.

She waited another 5 minutes or so for the girl to be gone. When absolute silence filled the air, she stepped out and met the girl's eyes as she looked at her through the mirror. She recognized the girl from yesterday; Quinn.

Before the girl could turn around to talk to her, Rachel took the exit. The last thing she remembered was hearing the door close behind her as she made her way out of the long corridor and back to the field. Now, from the backseat of the speeding car, she watched the trees move by as Sam pulled into the long driveway to the mansion that she had yet to become acquainted with.

Smiling faces were waiting at the end of the driveway once Rachel took her attention away from the window. She wondered how they found the first day of school important enough to take off early from the first day of their new jobs. Normal parents would just wait to hear about it when they got home. But, then she remembered… They weren't normal or her parents.

Before she could even attempt making it into the front door from the front porch, she was blocked off and bombarded by the young couple. The ginger spoke first; with a tone more excited than Olivia's. And by now, everyone should know how Rachel felt about Olivia's excited tone.

"So, tell me all about your first day and don't any of you leave out a single detail!"

As usual, Olivia was the first to take the bait while Sam was pulled into a conversation about this afternoon's football tryouts with Will. She saw the opportunity to bail, so she took it. A second she stood in the entry way of the house, and then another second she was slinging her black satchel on the carefully made bed.

She figured she wouldn't be alone for too much longer, so she grabbed her sketching pad and made her way back downstairs before anyone caught her. She knew the chances of getting out before anyone called her name were slim, but she decided to just go with the flow and ignore them. Maybe they'd get the hint.

The wooden chairs seemed to be damp from the rain that had since then gone away, but that didn't stop her from plopping down in one of them that surrounded the table. Pulling her knees to her chest, she opened the book and flipped to where she left off.

The page had been empty for weeks. Of course, there were erase marks here and there. Plus, the tiny lines from where she thought she could start could also be seen. But, she hadn't had anything truly inspirational in her mind to put on paper lately. Well, that was, until a few nights ago when her biggest fear came back into her dreams; _him_.

Setting the pencil to paper, she began to trace the jaw structure that she knew all too well. About a minute later, she knew she was finally getting somewhere after all of that blockage she had been experiencing. She just guessed that it took digging deep down into her soul to find success. Nothing new, she thought to herself.

She drowned herself into her work before heels against wooden deck filled her ears and the book in front of her was slammed shut. Emma smiled once Rachel acknowledged her presence. Placing her book on the damp table beside her, she put her feet on the ground and sat up straight.

"Is it okay if I sit?" she asked. Rachel didn't feel like being too rude at the moment. God knows she's done it so many times before. Nodding, she focused her attention on doodling on the cover of her pad.

"I couldn't catch you on the porch. You ran away so fast." She nervously chuckled. "Here, you left this on the counter and I assumed you'd be starving." The ginger reached behind her and grabbed the small pouch filled with the dark red liquid that she craved so much at the moment. "Just, be careful, Hun. We don't want any eyes on us." She added, referring to the couple next door, planting flowers in the bushes around their large home. It wasn't like they were paying any attention to them, but Rachel knew that Emma was just looking out for her. She always did. Which, in return, always ensured guilt within Rachel whenever she lashed out and Emma became one of her targets; it happened more often than anyone thought.

"I was going to ask how your day went."

"As good as any other day, I guess…" she replied mindlessly, tracing the pencil along the hard cover. She was getting aggravated with the fact that the pencil wasn't dark enough to give off the effect that she was aiming for.

"But, just not as good as Olivia's, right?" Emma laughed. "She reminds me of a younger version of myself. Before I met Will, that is…"

Remaining silent, she assumed Emma got the point that she wouldn't start up a full conversation with her as any of the others would've. "So, who is this hunk that she's been going on about, anyways?" Amusement was in her words. _Still reaching_ , Rachel thought.

"Some annoying guy," Rachel told her. She only looked at her with a questioning look. "His name is Finn, I think; Finn Hudson."

"Carole's son?" a pearly while smile made its way to the woman's face again.

"I guess…" Rachel rolled her eyes, returning to her drawing. "I didn't really sit in on the details. I have better things to do."

"Like sulking?" she joked. Rachel, however, shot up in offense. The woman instantly regretted it, stopping her.

"I didn't mean to say that." She whispered. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Placing her ice cold hand on Rachel's arm, she flashed a sympathetic look. She shot it down because she hated sympathy. It made her feel worse than she already did and she didn't need that. She didn't want people to feel sorry for her. She wanted them to understand that all she wanted to make her feel content was to be left alone.

This was when the anger began to rise up in her chest again. The face on her paper then came back into her mind, and suddenly, she felt the memory of the smack across the face, and the foot against her ribs. Repeatedly, she felt the blows, hearing the heart-stopping pleas that she cried out. Remembering the hopelessness she felt when she knew that no one would ever hear her.

She was now gripping onto Emma's arm with an excessive amount of force, her fangs were out, and everything around her stopped as the smell of the couple across the yard crowded her nose.

"Drink," Emma commanded. Ripping the cap off with her teeth, she took the liquid in with one gulp before she was squeezing the plastic for more. Coming up empty, she felt Emma's cold hand rest on her cheek before closing her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she felt the calm engulf her. "Thank you."

"I really hope you're being more careful than that around people." She sounded worried, and Rachel wanted nothing more than to brush off her lecturing like she usually did. But, she knew that she had a point. "Remember why we had to leave the city…"

"I know." She nodded in understanding.

"Good. Now, how about we change the subject? How do you like your teachers?" she aimed too high. Rachel didn't want this right now. She'd much rather jump off a cliff than have a humanly conversation with her "mother".

"Can we not do this right now?" Rachel snapped. "I don't mean to be rude; it's just that I'm not up for humanly chit chat." She knew the disappointment was there by the silence that Emma kept. But she knew she'd get over it, so she didn't pay any mind. Instead, she ran her hands through her hair. "It's not okay. You're all just pretending and it's only making things worse. It hurts too much! I'm hurting, Emma." She felt her face burning with anger, and she knew that when Emma's cold hand found its way to Rachel's shaky arm, her face was red. She wanted nothing more than to avoid the eye contact, so instead, she kept her firm grip on the strands of her hair and focused forward.

"You're missing him, aren't you?" Emma asked. Rachel assumed she was referring to her father.

"Everyday…"

"The same goes for my girls." Emma added, looking to the ground and taking a moment of silence. Rachel deliberated asking her how she was able to cope with everything and still keep up such a positive attitude every day. Instead, she decided to linger in the silence. "How about I make you some coffee and then I'll leave you to draw..." She nodded and then Emma was off.

In lieu of waiting for her return, she got up from the chair and began to make her way towards the forest. She decided that even though she appreciated Emma's offer, she just wanted to be in a place where she was absolutely certain she wouldn't be approached by another person. Crossing her arms, she made her way across the grassy plain.

She waited until she was out of viewing range of the couple before she picked up in a speed she was so used to by now after doing it for so long. She enjoyed the high pressure of the wind against her face that no ordinary human would ever be able to withstand. But, most importantly, she loved the feeling that came along with it. She felt exhilarated, and exhaustion and breath-withdrawal would never get to her.

Before she knew it, she was hanging on one of the branches of the smaller trees. She had to estimate about 5,000 feet from the ground was her current placement. Pulling more strength in her arms, she started swinging like gymnasts on those bar thingies. She never really paid any attention to gymnastics in the past, so she didn't know what they were called.

She felt the adrenaline once she performed her first flip around the branch. Splinters were digging into her hands, but she paid no mind. Once again, two more times, and then, before she knew it, she was swinging at full speed around the branch like a Ferris wheel with the speed of a roller coaster.

Letting go, she soared through the air and grabbed one of the branches on the other trees. She was at the very top within seconds, swinging to the tallest tree in her eye's range. Getting to the top, she realized it was the same branch she sat on earlier this morning. Serenity filled her pores, as the smell of fresh nature masked the annoying smell of car fumes and cheap beer that she had to put up with all day.

She rested her head back and sighed. But, just when she thought she could go back to her happy place that she was ripped from before, she heard her name. Instantly catching her attention, she sat up. Wouldn't you do the same thing?

"I just can't do it anymore, Will." It was Emma's voice. She seemed to be in reply to whatever statement Will made, containing her name. "It's just too much."

"Look, I know she's been difficult lately, but maybe if we try a little harder-" She cut him off.

"Trying is not the issue here, Will." Emma argued. "That's all we've been doing. In the beginning I understood. I really did. You know? She was coming from a broken past, her emotions had just been returned to her, and she really didn't know us. I understood that. We all did." She took a moment to take in a sharp breath. A few seconds passed before she began again.

"But it's over seven decades later and she has yet to participate in a conversion with any of us containing more than just a few words." She was in distress by the sound of her voice. "It's like she makes it her number one priority to push all of us away."

"Emma, that's probably just her coping strategy. She's been through a lot. She's scarred from a past that we've yet to learn about. She just needs a second chance. We need to give her more time."

"I'm out of second chances, Will." She replied.

"I know it can be frustrating, but we need to give her more time. She's a work in progress, okay?" Silence followed, which Rachel assumed meant that Emma was listening in consideration. Or, at least, she hoped that she was. Rachel's heart was broken. Not because she had just found out how Emma really felt for her. Her heart was broken because she knew that everything she was saying was one-hundred percent true.

"Have you ever met a vampire that we couldn't save?" Will continued.

"It's different and that's the concept of my argument that you're not grasping." Emma raised her voice. Consideration pushed off, Rachel assumed.

"What's different?" Will asked with a sigh.

"Every person that we have helped in the past has actually put forth the effort to get better."

"She has put forth effort, Emma. She's turned her emotions back on and her bloodlust is way better than it was all of those years ago. How is that not effort to you?" he replied.

"Because, those actions were controllable efforts that we pushed on her; those were our efforts."

"Just give her a chance…" he pressed again. "She'll prove you wrong, I promise."

"I've been trying my hardest to, Will. I've already told you that. We all have and you know that. But, it's one thing after the other. Every time, I just get pushed away and branded for a fool. Like, this afternoon when I came back and found that she was gone, I didn't know whether to feel more worried about her whereabouts or hurt that she didn't even give me the time of day after I went out of my way to make her feel better. I went out of my way to make sure that she knew I was there for her. I feel like an idiot for even trying because all she does is leave or make small remarks that make me feel like dirt. And, I do, Will. I feel like dirt when it comes to her. All I want is for us to be a family, and every single time I try and talk to her she reminds me that we're the exact opposite..." Rachel could hear the tears in Emma's shaky voice. "I know that I can't be her mom. I know that. And, I know she's still dealing with the loss of her father… But, I just want to be there for her. I-I-I just want her to know that I love her a lot and I care about her. And she's not letting me and I hate it… She thinks that no one cares, so she's pushing us away and when we try, she ignores us because whatever happened to her long ago has gotten her so guarded and pushed off from the rest of the world. She sees the world with such hate, and there's nothing that I can do about it, no matter how much I want to and it's hurting me in the process. I just can't do it anymore, Will." She was in full-blown sobs.

"You know, I thought the same thing…"Will began.

Rachel's heart dropped to her toes. With everything going on, she never realized that tears were running down her cheeks or that her nails were driven into the branch that she was holding onto.

"I was the species that my father had spent years researching and loathing, my family and friends were dead, and I was completely and utterly alone. In my mind, there wasn't a single soul in the universe that had it worse than me." Will continued. "That was, until I found myself circling an abandoned warehouse because of the cries that came into my ears." He took a moment to pause. If Rachel had to guess, she would say it was to leave impact.

"There were so many innocent victims and I couldn't believe my eyes. I couldn't believe that such a small woman could kill so many people. But, the smell of blood filled my nose and there you sat, in the corner of the room, covered in it. I almost mistook you for one of the bodies on the floor. But then I heard the cries that led my attention to that place and I saw you stand up slowly, realizing my presence. Do you remember what you said to me?"

"Yes," she huffed. "Please, don't hurt me. I'm new at this and I don't know how to be this person." Emma answered.

"Then, I took you in and tried to help you. I had become so overwhelmed because I felt that I was trying to teach vegetarianism to a carnivore. It was like everything I said was going into one ear and out of the other. But, I knew that no matter how many times you became angry with me for trying to tell you how to live your life and no matter how many times you tried to push me away, I was all that you had and vice versa. So, every time I got the feeling that I should throw in the towel and send you on your own, I put in twice the effort as before. Then, one day, I just didn't have to…"

"Because, I fell in love with you…" Emma answered for him.

"You opened up to me and I found the love of my life. Then, we found Elliot and now we're here with all of these beautiful kids and I'm the happiest I've been within my whole entire lifetime; all because I never gave up on you." He confirmed.

"I should try harder, shouldn't I?" she asked.

"Put in twice the effort every time she puts you down, and never give up. We've got nothing but time. She's going to come around, I promise."

"Thank you for this, Will." Emma replied. "Gosh, I was being such an idiot just now. I almost made a big mistake by telling her to leave."

"Let's just agree to never let her find out about this talk and do everything we can to make her feel better."

"Agreed," Emma said.

"Agreed," Will repeated.

"Agreed," Rachel decided to add in for her own sick amusement. Gripping the branch on the side of her, she slowly stood up and took in the feeling of cold wind against her wet cheeks.

One moment she was letting go of the branch and the next, she could feel the same cold wind blowing against her back as she looked at the sky above, plummeting to her temporary demise. She was out before the harsh pressure of every bone in her body shattering could reveal itself to her.

When she finally came to, the sky above her had darkened. It took her a few seconds to balance on her newly reconstructed bones, but once she did, she decided it was time to head towards the house. By the time she made it through the front door, she was greeted by Will and Emma.

"Where have you been? We were worried about you, Rachel." Will asked out of concern, after noticing her entrance.

"We didn't know where you were and we were scared that something may have happened to you." Emma added, standing by Will's side.

"I was…" she didn't know how to tell them that she was in the woods, listening to their conversation, then killing herself. So she just decided to go with a lie, like usual. "…out."

Turning away, she headed towards the staircase. But, before she could get to the foot of the stairs, they stopped her in her tracks.

"Will and I were just about to sit for a cup of coffee, if you wanted to join us." Emma's hopeful voice played through her ears.

Her instincts told her to say no and head up to her room, but then her guilty conscience played through her previously smashed head. She knew that she'd have to step out of her comfort zone to make up for hurting them sooner or later. So, what was stopping her from starting now?

"Seeing as though I missed out on mine this afternoon, I'd l-love t-to." Rachel flashed a slight smile. She had no idea why, but she was finding it really hard to build up words. Maybe it was because she had never spoken more than a sentence to anyone in a really long time without being forced. Words could not describe how uncomfortable she was feeling right now, but she knew that she was doing the right thing.

Her act of kindness proved itself accurate when both Emma and Will's faces lit up with surprise and excitement.

"I was hoping you'd say that!" Emma smiled a wide pearly smile in her direction, clasping her hands together. "How about you two move over to the table while I go fix the cups?" Emma asked nudging Will forward.

She didn't even know her own shyness until she was left sitting alone at the table with Will, who was about to open his mouth and start conversation. She was left hoping that her social skills would make a major leap within the next few seconds. And surprisingly, they did. She was pretty proud of herself. Before Will could speak, she decided to beat him with words of her own.

"Where are the others?"

"Some back to school party in the woods." Will replied, unsure as to what he was even telling her. The statement sounded more of a question. She assumed he was trying to figure out if she knew what he was talking about.

"Oh. Yeah," Rachel mumbled, looking at the table as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"What are we talking about?" Emma asked as she used her hip to push the door to the dining room closed. Her arms held three steaming cups of the dark brown liquid that usually helped her cravings. Once she sat beside Will across from where Rachel sat, she handed each person their cup and waited for someone to answer.

"Rachel was just asking me where the others were and I told her they went to that party in the woods." Will caught her up.

"Yeah," Emma recalled. "That was definitely not my call but they basically begged us." She chuckled. "They did, however, say that it's supposedly a school tradition, so I guess it's good that they are trying to fit in. We don't need any more eyes on us than we already have. Remind me why we picked a small town to settle in, Will?" she laughed.

"So you could practice on that ridiculous accent and get to be involved in that small town women gossip that you love, even though you'll never admit it." Will laughed when Emma playfully hit his arm.

"What about you, Rachel? You didn't want to go to the party?" Emma asked, turning the attention back to Rachel just when she was getting used to watching the two of them.

"I, umm, I guess I wasn't invited." she stumbled over her words. The table instantly fell silent followed by looks of sympathy from the couple. There was nothing she hated more, so she decided to steer the conversation in another direction.

"We're sorry to hear that, sweetheart." Emma told her, placing her hand over Rachel's from across the table.

"It's fine. It's not really my scene anyways. Cheap beer, loud music, large crowds of people; I much rather this." She smiled at the two.

"Well, we much rather have you here with us as well." Will smiled and Emma nodded in agreement. Rachel's heart sped up in panic when they started to fall into an awkward silence. She couldn't figure out anything to say next, so she was stuck looking at the two of them with a blank expression.

Before Emma could speak once more, the sound of a cellphone played throughout the room, leaving Rachel thanking her lucky stars for the distraction.

She sat there and watched Emma's movements closely. Sliding the phone to end the ringing, she watched as Emma pressed the device to her ear.

Listening closely, she recognized the voice on the other side to be Santana's. She seemed to be in a panicked tone, leaving her to believe that something happened at the party. If she had to guess, one of them screwed up again and they'd have to pack everything and head out before sunrise.

"Santana, I can barely understand you. Slow down, Sweetie. What's the problem?" Emma spoke softly, motherly.

Placing her hair behind her ear once more, Rachel listened closely until Santana's words were clear as day. She could hear her rapid breathing through the phone.

"It's Olivia. I can't find her anywhere."

"Did something happen? Where are Sam and Elliot?"

"They're on the other side of the bonfire talking to their football friends." Emma sat up in her seat. "I can't find her anywhere, Emma."

"Have you tried calling her?"

"Only about a million times," Santana replied. "Her phone seems to be turned off."

"Maybe she's in a place with no reception." Emma reasoned.

"No, she's in danger. I know it." Santana pushed.

"Well, Santana, let's try and stay calm about this okay? Olivia's a vampire and she can fend for herself. At most, she probably just went a little too far and got lost. I'm sure she's just fine, but just in case, we'll try to get in touch with her. Thanks for letting us know, Honey." Emma spoke in a calm manner once more. It seemed to be one of her many specialties that Rachel always remembered, beginning from the time that they were torturing her emotions back on.

"Emma, that's not it." Santana continued. "She's been different all night."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, she was walking somewhere really quickly when I last saw her. I pulled at her arm, and when she turned to face me…"

"What happened?" Will asked.

"She had something that looked like blood on the collar of her shirt." Rachel could hear the girl's heartbeat through the phone. "I think she went to finish someone off."

This time, all three of the people at the dining table were sitting up straight, including Rachel, without even noticing.


	7. Olivia

**Chapter 6**

For the first time in his life, he was the only guy within his circle of friends who didn't have a girl. Well, with exception of Blaine Anderson, that was. He liked to get cozy with dudes, not that Finn had a problem with that or anything, but even he had a guy with him tonight. Finn, on the other hand, was completely and utterly alone.

With that thought, he stood silently as his friends discussed things that he couldn't really give two craps about. Instead, the uncomfortable feeling in his chest from before crowded his mind. It tugged at him, like a dog waiting for its owner to throw the bone.

He'd be lying to you if he said that part of it wasn't because of her, because most of it was. It wasn't that he missed her or wanted to be with her again. He'd gotten over that within seconds. In actuality, he was relieved he'd no longer have to deal with her. It was more along the lines of the change in it all. Quinn had been at his side for as long as he could remember. All of the convincing in the world wouldn't allow him to escape the fact that he missed her. No matter the bad she'd done recently, she was always that resort when things went awry. As for now, he no longer had that option and that's what killed him.

Then, there was the thought of the other _her._ He wasn't much of a puzzle solver. When it was clear that he was disliked by someone, he would be the first to back off. But, something was different with her. Rachel hadn't given him that vibe yet. If anything, she kept him guessing. She was this code that he knew he could figure out, but still kept struggling with it. Good enough to jump all in and not feel a hint of regret about it. And that was saying a lot, seeing as though he'd known her for a course of just two days.

His chest tightened when his mind trailed on. He wondered where she was tonight. Not that she'd be here, sitting around the fire with her many friends and sipping down her second beer. However, that didn't stop him from hoping that she'd show her face.

Becoming disinterested standing around a group of friends who didn't pay him a lick of attention, he tried to look for Percy and Toni. He found them leaning against a tree, laughing at what the other said. Finn only sighed, knowing that it wouldn't be right to disturb them. If they didn't live together and the situation wouldn't be weird, Finn swore the two of them would be good hook-up candidates.

Heading in the opposite direction, he never realized that he caught the eye of Puck; the guy who used to be his best friend before he caught him screwing his girlfriend in the backseat of his car. Leaning over to scoop through one of the many ice chests, he pulled out a cold bottle of beer and turned around to find he was no longer alone.

"Are you still upset with me?" Puck asked, grabbing a beer of his own. It's been a matter of months since they'd spoken, what did he expect?

"I don't get upset." Finn remarked coldly.

"Good because I really want to talk to you," Puck suggested before taking the last swig of his old bottle.

"That's actually not really a good idea right now," Finn shook his head in instant rejection. "I just want to go drink this beer somewhere quiet."

"Well, you better not stay out there too long. Beer pong starts at nine o'clock sharp."  
Puck's voice remained neutral despite the tension weighing down on the both of them. Nodding his head, Finn turned and headed past the orange glow of the big fire in the middle of the crowd. He didn't exactly know where he was heading to but he decided he would just continue to walk until he got to a part of the woods where he was completely alone.

Before he could continue his stroll away, he heard his name being called behind him. Turning around, he watched the figure of a tall brunette make her way towards him. Her face was lit with the bright orange glow while her crystal blue eyes made their way up towards his.

"Do I know you?" he played it off, but he recognized her. They had a few classes together this semester.

"I'm sorry." She laughed. "I'm Brandie."

"Well, hi, Brandie." Finn smiled politely. He knew now that the thought of even going on his own for one moment was near impossible. He was at a party that held catching-up purposes for the new school year ahead.

"I just wanted to introduce myself to you." From the smell that she projected, Finn knew that she was already drunk. "I sit behind you in history class. Well, I did. You moved desks this afternoon." She giggled. "You smell really good, I do have to say."

"Uh, Thanks." He didn't know how else to respond to that. It must've satisfied her. She shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she bit her lip and stared at the ground. "I've always had a big crush on you, actually…"

His heart dropped. He knew where this was going and somehow, he let her continue. His mind was too distracted with other things; other girls. He wondered, again, where Rachel was right now.

Too distracted, he didn't notice the girl jumping onto her tippy-toes and connecting their lips in an anything-but-passionate kiss.

 _ **Olivia**_

They were running late. She'd like to say that it wasn't her fault, but even she'd have to disagree with that. It was just that she had been having trouble finding the right thing to wear, and when she finally did they were ready to go and she still needed time to fix her hair and makeup. She knew that they were aggravated with her, but she didn't care. She had to look perfect tonight because he'd be there.

Once they piled into the car, she was glad to know that her family was coming with her. Well, that was, except for Rachel. She wished that she was there with them, however. But, she knew that Rachel was going through things and she understood that she couldn't go with them. So, she decided to talk off Elliot's ears in the backseat. She told him about how much she liked her outfit and what she was looking forward to about tonight. She knew that he didn't mind.

Sam pulled up to where many other cars were parked on the town edge, and before long they were getting out of the car. As soon as the cold night air hit her, she could smell the many teenagers mixed with the unfamiliar smell of what she assumed to be alcohol. She felt the rush of a bad feeling deep within her but then Santana nudged her forward and all previous thought was lost.

Excitement built within her, thinking that he'd be waiting for her grand appearance. She followed closely behind the other three, looking in every direction and corner for the tall quarterback. Disappointment seemed to make its way to her chest when she realized that he was nowhere to be found, but that didn't stop her from glancing every time someone moved in the corner of her eyes.

Elliot and Sam roamed off to go with their football friends, so Olivia decided to go with Santana and her cheerleader friends. She stood in silence as Santana introduced her to the group of girls.

Olivia knew what everyone was thinking. Of course it'd be easy for her to hit it off with the cheerleaders. With her excessive style and pretty blonde hair, she'd fit right in. But, it was the exact opposite. She always did have trouble making friends with the girls of her generation. If anything, she was the one they'd stand in corners and gossip about. It sucked because she loved making new friends and having people to talk to, but from previous experience, people just didn't like her. Maybe it was because of her voice or the way that she dressed. She didn't know, but she hoped that these girls would be different.

"Olivia, this is Ashley, Marina, Izzy, and Brittany. They're my friends from cheerleading tryouts that I was telling you about." Santana explained.

"It's nice to meet you guys," Olivia flashed her pearly smile. "I'm Olivia."

"Yeah, Santana's told us all about you." The auburn headed girl spoke. She assumed it was Marina by the order in which Santana introduced them. "I love your shoes."

"Thanks." Olivia smiled, loving the compliment. She knew that she picked the right outfit. She was wearing her black leather jacket, a white designer t-shirt, dark blue skinny jeans, and black high heels. "I got them in Chicago."

They all smiled at her before turning to a conversation of their own about something that happened earlier today. Santana seemed to be just as lost as Olivia was, but jumped in leaving Olivia on her own. After a while of standing there, she became bored. She wanted to go about and wander on her own.

"Santana, I'm going to go walk around okay?"

"Okay, just don't go too far. We've got to be back by eleven, remember?" Smiling, she nodded and headed out.

Taking in her surroundings, she found herself to be standing in the middle of many different types of groups of friends. There were people singing, dancing, laughing; she even came across a few couples making out against the trees that surrounded them. She smiled as she slowly walked past them. She always did find human life fascinating. Now, it was barely a memory for her, but she remembered the small parts from it; like the feeling of being completely satisfied from hunger after sitting down for a meal with her family. She missed it more than anything in the world.

It seemed like she was walking around in circles once she approached a group she recognized from before. Still, there was no sign of the glorious, tall boy that influenced her interest in the party in the first place. Fear crept into her mind when she thought of the possibilities of his whereabouts.

Maybe he just couldn't make it, she tried to convince herself. She knew that she was probably overthinking things, but every girl did when their crush wasn't there yet.

Coming across a group of guys including Sam and Elliot, she approached a guy with a Mohawk. She thought she'd give him a shot. Maybe he wouldn't let her down. Lightly, she tapped him on the shoulder and waited for him to face her. Once he did, a smile of what seemed to be amusement appeared across his features.

"Can I help you?" he asked. Olivia seemed to notice that he was looking her up and down like a piece of meat.

"Are you familiar with Finn Hudson?" she asked.

"Well, that depends, who's asking?" he slurred as he held onto the nearest tree for support.

"Me," Olivia answered with confusion, she didn't clearly understand why he just asked that question.

"He went into the woods." He answered, flinging his index finger forward, almost poking her in the eye in the process.

"Thanks," she smiled, heading off. His drunken calls interrupted her movement.

"But, hey," he yelled. "If things don't go so well between you and boy wonder, let me know. We'd have a good time, princess."

Heading off in the pointed direction, a feeling of relief settled within her chest. She was feeling better, knowing that Finn did, in fact, show up. She knew she did something right this time. All she needed to do now was find him and she'd be content.

The smell of the many humans around her began to leave her nose as the glow of the fire became faint. As she entered into the pitch black, a chill ran up her spine. Yes, she knew that she wasn't supposed to become easily scared, seeing as though she was a monster herself. But, she guessed the young human girl she once was within her, felt otherwise.

The loud sound of rapidly beating hearts, as well as the crackling of leaves on the forest floor and a female's giggle stopped Olivia in her tracks.

"Brandie-"

That's when she felt her heart come to a complete stop. She knew whose voice sounded from behind the tree she was standing in front of. Finn Hudson stood behind this tree. With another girl, might she add?

She had him pinned to the tree. In the swiftest motion, they were now kissing, causing  
Olivia's stomach to curl.

"C'mon, let's get out of here." The girl started afterwards, with drunken words. "Have you ever been to the Falls at night? Because, they're really pretty and I could show you if you want..."

She didn't stay there long enough to hear anything else left to be said. Instead, she hugged a tree all the way across the forest, silently cursing herself. She knew the fact that she was upset over a guy she barely knew was completely absurd. She knew that if she told the others about this, about how her "soulmate" was in the woods with another girl, she'd get eye rolls and lectures about her stupidity. And somewhere along the way, she knew they'd be right. But, at this moment, she was hurt, and no other alternative reaction could come to her mind…

That's when she felt the burning sensation rising from her chest and the heating up of her face. But, for some reason, she was holding on so tight. For some weird reason, she wanted to take this moment to prove people wrong. She wanted to show the world that she wasn't that little girl who always threw a fit when she didn't get what she wanted.

Her insecurity and unstableness always got the best of her, and she lost it. _Just like the last time_ , she reminded herself, thinking of her long string of ex-boyfriends. Then, the one person that she promised herself to forget forever came to her mind.

She sighed, trying to push the thought from her mind. That made her more depressed than anything else. Turning around, she headed back toward the people; hoping one of the others would be nice enough to drive her home. If not, she figured she'd run or walk. It didn't really matter, as long as she would get home.

" _You belong in an asylum_ ,"

She remembered the voice so clearly, even though she was trying to push it all back.

" _It's not my fault that you are insane. Stay away from me_!"

She abruptly stopped once the words got to her head as they had when they were last spoken by _him_. Looking down, her hands were shaking and the only thing crowding her head was the smell of everyone surrounding her. Anger instantly built within her chest, shooting the fangs straight out of her gums.

"Olivia!" she heard her name from across the bonfire. Looking up, she met Santana's fear-stricken eyes. She knew then that her face must've been transforming; around all of these people.

"Liv, it's okay. Just, come here; I'll help you." Santana whispered low enough for her to hear across the crowd, careful not to catch the attention of any human ears. "What's happening?"

Ignoring her sister and going against all good judgement, she turned in the opposite direction once more, heading back into the dark forest.

She decided that she needed to go as far away from human life as possible. She didn't want to cause a reason for them to pack up and leave again. Despite everything, she really liked it here. She also knew that Emma and Will did, as well as the others, so she took off towards the edge of the forest.

Although the smell of the warm, red liquid clouded her mind, she felt the wind against her face, hinting at the large water fall sounding in the distance. Plopping down on the floor, she allowed her legs to hang over the cliff.

She couldn't think. She couldn't even blink. All she could do was stare forward with the left over tears pooling onto her cheeks. She was feeling a certain type of way. She couldn't really even explain it. But, she knew that it was a very familiar feeling. It was a certain feeling that she struggled with long ago; one that overcame her once _he_ left her behind.

She remembered everything about him. _Xavier_ was the most handsome man that she had ever laid eyes on. He had these hazel eyes that she just couldn't forget. The way that his light brown hair flowed down to his ears, to this day, still sent shivers up her spine…

 _It was the mid 1950's and they finally decided to give Olivia a chance to pick where they resided. Immediately, she chose California. It was always her dream to live by the beach. And, having daylight rings allowed them to do just that. So, once they settled in, she decided she'd stroll down the long beach down the road._

 _She felt like she was in a movie, with her red and white polka dot dress, her black Mary-janes, and her long blonde hair in a high ponytail with bright red lipstick dabbed over her lips._

 _She caught eyes and somewhat unwanted attention, but she smiled and brushed it off because she loved the way that she looked. She was so confident back then, she smiled remembering. She didn't care what people thought of her. She didn't know the hurt that heartbreak could bring yet, but she'd soon find out._

 _There he sat, watching her like a hawk. In the parking lot, surrounded by all of his friends, he sat in his black Chevrolet Corvette watching her swing her dress around as the wind blew through her ponytail, pointing her small black camera towards the horizon._

 _At that point she didn't know that he had put out his cigarette and said farewell to his friends, who were watching the two of them closely… Little did she know that he was trailing behind her, taking off his Ray Ban sunglasses and straightening out his black leather jacket._

 _"Excuse me, ma'am." He smiled, flashing his pearly whites that somehow matched hers. "I hope it's not too much for me to ask to get your autograph?"_

 _"I'm not famous, silly." She giggled._

 _"You could have fooled me." He told her. "You sure are the prettiest lady I ever seen."_

 _"You're not so bad yourself." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her cat eye sunglasses._

 _"Let me take you to dinner." He pleaded. "I mean, unless you have another man waiting at home." She didn't miss how his perfect left eyebrow rose a little._

 _"Ahh, I can't." she guiltily confessed. She could smell the cigarette smoke from a mile away and she knew by his facial features that he wasn't anywhere near the 17 year age that she kept. However, there was just something about him drawing her in. "You seem a bit too old for me. My foster parents wouldn't fancy it much." She smiled sheepishly. "I've got to keep up my image, Mr. Leather Jacket. It was nice to meet you, though." She complimented, turning to continue her stroll._

She remembered the struggle trying to walk away from him. She held her free will in her hands, knowing that she was pursuing it in the correct way. Then, he called her once more, and she didn't know why but everything flew away from her mind. All she could do was stop, turn around and face the guy and a relationship that would make her so happy and at the same time, ruin her life.

And in the beginning she was; genuinely happy, that is. It was date night pretty much every night and he made her feel like she could walk on clouds. They'd go out to the local drive-in cinemas, hang out at the local diners; she even remembered the dreadful poodle skirts. _Grease_ in a nutshell, she'd call it. But, instead of being Sandy, Xavier always referred to her as his "little Marilyn".

Everything was perfect. And then… And then…

Olivia's mind wandered immediately. A certain smell filled the air around her. Of course, there was the smell of smoke from the fire and water running in the distance. There was also always going to be the same smell of the people in the far distance. But this smell was a lot more…persistent. It was like it was poking at her every nerve.

Getting up slowly, she followed it. It took her a while, but once the smell crowded her nose, she found the source. Finn's girl sat on the floor of the forest, looking around completely and utterly confused. And right on her forehead, sat a huge and nasty gash.

"Are you okay?" Olivia asked, crouching down to meet her face.

"I'm… fell," she slurred, giggling as she proceeded to attempt to return to her feet. "I fell." She corrected herself.

"Are you drunk?" Olivia already knew the answer.

Holding up her index finger and thumb, she nearly pressed them together to note that she was only a little drunk.

Without thinking, Olivia reached forward. She pressed her fingers against the damp redness on the girl's forehead. Pulling back, she studied her fingers as if her life depended on it. All the while, her judgement pooled around in her mind.

She knew it was wrong and that they'd hate her for it. She knew that they'd spent most of their time trying to teach her morals and boundaries; all of which would go down the drain right now if she chose to give in. But, at the same time, she was angry. She was feeling lost and heartbroken and nothing more would make her feel better than to get what she'd been craving for so long.

Pressing her fingers to her lips, she got the smallest taste. Then, there was no going back. Going in for more, she gathered as much blood on her fingers as she could… She felt the fangs once again, and knew that her eyes wouldn't be too far behind.

"What are you doing?" Disgust was clearly present in the girl's facial expression. Olivia didn't blame her. Somewhere deep inside of her, she felt the same.

"Shhh," she pressed the bloody fingers to the girl's lips. Looking her deep in the eyes, she spoke again. "You're okay. Don't scream."

It took her a minute to debate whether or not she should go forth with all of this, but once her mind was made she threw her head back and sunk her teeth into the girl's neck. She couldn't believe she was actually letting herself do this, but at the same time she couldn't stop.

"I'm so sorry." She cried to the limp figure. "I'm so sorry."

 _ **Finn**_

Letting Brandie down did something with his emotions tonight. It turned them sour. He didn't know why. It's not like she wouldn't get over it tomorrow. The amount of alcohol running through the girl was well past the legal limit. However, that didn't stop him from feeling guilty.

As he pushed his way past the large crowd of people, he still did. After letting her down as easy as possible, he left her to collect herself alone in the forest. The truth being, he just needed to get out of there. Reason number 500 why he hated being this guy in high school, he thought. He wished that he didn't always have to hang out with the same people every night.

Scurrying past all of his drunken friends, he grabbed his jacket perched on one of the lower branches, and headed back towards his car.

"Guys, I'm heading home," he informed Percy and Toni.

"What? No way, it's not even ten yet!" Percy exclaimed. The two of them were just as intoxicated.

"I've got a quiz tomorrow morning," he informed them.

"How are we going to get home?" the two of them asked.

"Puck's going to bring you," he replied, catching the scene of his drunken former friend flirting with his unamused ex.

"What about you?" Toni asked. "You've been drinking too."

"I'll be fine," he assured them. "I just have to get out of here."

He left before they could say anything else. With his rock music blaring in the small space of the Porsche, he never even noticed the man standing in the middle of the road. He knew that he was screwed the moment he swerved to the side and lost control of his wheels.

Closing his eyes, he hoped for the best. The last thing he remembered before darkness took him was the jolting forward of his body and the feeling of an air bag banging against his nose.

* * *

 **Sorry this took me so long, you guys...**


	8. Rescue Me

**Chapter 7**

She was hesitating to get there. Not because of the fact that she was scared. It was more along the lines of the decision she made before the chilling phone call that Emma received.

She decided that she wouldn't give in. Yes, she needed a place to stay and people to keep her afloat. It was just that in needing those two things, they expected a lot from her in return. That's the part she wasn't so hell-bent on carrying out.

She knew that in accepting them, she'd be expected to become a different person. In their eyes, she was going to have to make a major change and become only the good parts. She'd have to trade in her alone time, earphones, and cheap eyeliner to live out every episode of "Modern Family".

That's where she drew the line. She knew that somewhere deep within herself she hated the person she'd become lately, but she also felt that it was best that she was this way. There were so many lingering emotions that were still left over from her past; the death of her father, the various killings in her downward spiral, and the past part of her life that she kept to herself. With all of these things bottled up in her mind, she felt that the person she was now helped her cope better.

So, amongst Emma and Will at the dining table, she devised a plan that would keep them off her back and keep things the way they were at the same time. Of course, a small bit of herself would feel large amounts of guilt deep within, but she knew it was the best option that she had right now. If looking out for others and looking out for her came against each other, she'd always choose herself. That was a simple key to survival she picked up long ago.

As Will rambled on about his day at work and all of his clients, she made up her mind about what she'd do to keep herself safe under this roof. She decided it was best for her to return to her old ways. In saying that, she wasn't referring to the girl that ripped through towns, turning people into nothing more than shredded limbs. She was referring to the other side of the girl she used to be; the girl who manipulated these people, beforehand, into trusting her. She knew that she was terrible. It was a long time ago, and if she had a choice she'd never go back to any of it, but at this point she really didn't care. It was the best and only option that she had left. She had her own self to thank for that.

The only thing that burdened her now was the fear that her human emotions would get in her way and screw everything up. She guessed she'd have to dig out the Dramatic Arts major she was in the early twentieth-century.

With all of this being said, Santana's call to Emma presented a kick-start opportunity for her. All she had to do now was convince Emma and Will the same way she convinced herself.

"How can this be happening right now?" Emma asked in a worried and fearful tone after she hung up the phone.

"Emma, remember that we still don't know if this is one-hundred percent true." Will insisted, placing a hand gently on her arm.  
"Santana could've seen things wrong."

"She's out there, Will," Emma replied. "She's out there and is probably so frightened right now... What if someone gets hurt because of us?"

"We have to go find her." Will stood up from his chair. With his steaming coffee left unattended, he headed for the door. Emma followed in tow with the snap of a finger.

"Wait!" Rachel exclaimed, stopping the both of them in motion. They looked at her with patience, even though she knew that was the last thing on their minds.

"If the two of you go, there's no certainty that you won't be seen by some of the other teenagers." Rachel explained. "It's a party with under-age drinking and drug use. You're probably going to cause a scene. Especially you, Will, since you're a lawyer."

"She's right." Will commented.

"Why did we let them go in the first place?" Emma asked, placing her hand to her face to wipe away the tears of worry. "What are we going to do?"

"I'll go," Rachel suggested calmly. The couple looked at her with such a look that she couldn't describe at the moment. The only thing she could come up with in her head was a combination of shock and disbelief.

"No," Emma said, shaking her head rapidly. "You're not putting yourself into danger because of us." She turned to Will. "Try Liv's cell again. We're going to figure this out."

"Just think about it," Rachel pushed again before they could rule her out completely. "I'm the only person who's ever lived here before. I know every square inch of this town like the back of my hand; especially the forests. I can quickly get in, find Olivia, and get out."

"She has a point," Will interceded. Emma still didn't seem to be too convinced.

"Please, let me do this." She needed them to believe her.

"Okay, fine. But take your phone with you and call us when you get everyone and leave so we know that you're okay." Emma told her as Rachel got up from the table and headed for the door. Grabbing her arm, Emma stopped Rachel in her tracks.

"Be careful, Rachel. We're walking on eggshells with Olivia out like this."

"I promise," she replied.

She was running now. Not at the speed in which Will and Emma expected her to be traveling at, but at the same time she was heading toward the edge of the town just the same as she would have been if traveling at that speed. She could explain it this way; abnormal non-humane speed was still being used.

By the time she got there, she had to take a huge breath of confidence. The place was crowded with drunken teenagers and it made her anxious. She decided to use her speed to move past the slow eyes of all the people, being nothing more to them than a gust of wind. Then, Santana spotted her and headed in her direction. Not long after, the familiar faces of Elliot and Sam followed. They seemed surprised to see her.

"Why are you here?" Santana asked, surprised. "Where are Will and Emma?"

"Hello to you too, Santana," Rachel remarked.

"I didn't mean it like that," Santana apologized. "I just thought Emma had other thoughts when she said she'd handle it."

"She didn't send me over here," Rachel informed them. "I came willingly."

"What?" Santana asked with shock, turning to the other two to find the same expressions.

"Have you found her?" Rachel asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No," Elliot responded with a hand to his forehead and a hand to his hip. He looked more worried than Sam, Olivia's biological twin brother. "Even with our speed, It's impossible to cover every inch of this place in a short amount of time. For all we know, there could already be piles of bodies."

"Guys, calm down." Rachel instructed. "You're being a little melodramatic."

"And you're being a little insincere. Emma did tell you what's going on right? Or, did you just come because you felt like getting out of the house?" Santana remarked, coldly.

"You're not thinking rationally and it's clouding all of your judgement. You're jumping to conclusions." Rachel defended herself. "You're assuming she killed everyone here, right?" Looking around, she pointed out most of the teenage population, completely unaffected by anything, having a good time with their friends.

They remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

"Then I'm going to assume too. I'm going to assume that she's her normal, boring self; the same girl who cried her eyes out when we had to hunt those deer for food when we ran out of blood bags in Seattle. I'm also going to assume that she probably followed her own better judgement and went somewhere far away from everyone to cool down," she placed her hands on her hips. "She's probably just fine."

"We're not one-hundred percent sure of that, Rachel." Santana reminded her. "Besides, even if you're right, I know her more than anyone. She's not good at being alone."

"Then you obviously don't believe in her," Rachel argued.

"Let's just try looking for her again, okay guys?" Rachel and Santana's glares of tension toward each other were interrupted. "We all have our phones on us, so if we don't find her by 10:30, we'll call Emma and Will again." Rachel looked to Sam who was checking his phone for any missed calls, even though he's had a tight clutch on it since she found them. "Keep your phones on you, no matter what."

As they parted, Rachel remained in place for a moment. Anger rose within her chest as she viewed what she seemed to miss moments ago. She guessed with everything going on, her mind was preoccupied. Now, these _children_ were ruining her beautiful forest. Tomorrow, when they've all returned to their annoyingly ordinary lives, this beautiful place would become littered with spilled alcohol, plastic cups, dangerous broken bottles, cigarette butts, left over drugs, and other trash. Not to mention this huge fire; a fire that was doing no telling how much damage to the plants underneath it.

Her beautiful and peaceful place that she loved so much was ruined by these reckless human beings. Before becoming too angry, she zoomed off until she reached the side that was pitch-black. Feeling her way around the familiar trees, she pick up on a scent she recognized all too well. It was just never this strong in her nose; not for a very long time, that was. She decided to keep moving and ignore it.

The falls were sounding in the near distance. She knew if she continued forward, she'd be at the edge of the forest. With her luck, she'd find Olivia making out and watching the falls with another Xavier; putting this whole search in its useless place.

She thought the others were being ridiculous, worrying so much about all of this. It was Olivia after all. This wasn't exactly the first time they've been put through all of this mess by her. However, it was the first time she cared enough to help with the search. Correction, she thought, pretended to care. She needed Will and Emma to trust her.

Just as she thought, the blonde was sitting on the same edge that her and her father used to. Something was propped up on the side of her, but the darkness messed with Rachel's vision. She sighed knowing that if she walked forward, she'd have to face her. She'd have to talk to her about whatever was on her mind and she wasn't sure she should really be the one to do all of that right now. She hadn't really thought this part of the plan through.

So, she clenched her jaw and remained in place. Placing a hand on a nearby tree, she remained still. She didn't want Olivia to hear her. Looking around, she prayed one of the others would come running behind her so she wouldn't have to deal with any of this. Then, about five minutes passed, and nothing changed. These people were clearly terrible at hid-n-seek when they were children, Rachel thought.

Slowly walking forward, she had to keep her focus straight, because the smell that surrounded her crowded her inner judgement. She found herself clinging to another tree, trying to focus. The smell was so strong.

The top of the girl's long, curly blonde locks was the only thing Rachel could see as she perched herself next to her. She let her legs fall over the cliff as she sat silently, biting her tongue to distract her nose while waiting for Olivia to address her. It was Olivia, so she knew they wouldn't be sitting in silence all night.

Fear crept within Rachel as she felt the fangs seep out of her own gums and the veins under her own eyes. The smell had a large influence on Rachel's estranged motions. She seemed to be fighting urges she didn't know she still had until now. Taking deeper breaths, she looked around for any sign of the others. As much as she hated to admit it right now, she needed them to be around… There was no myth in the fact that she couldn't do this alone. The smell was too loud.

The blonde's cries seemed to get louder all the while. After a moment of uncertainty and absolute silence, Rachel lifted her hands to her mouth and began nervously gnawing away at her fingernails. Turning to finally face her, the moon light shown on the blonde's face and Rachel's own face fell like the water in the Falls across from them. Then, she noticed the figure on the side of the blonde and finally made out where the smell was coming from. She had to keep her hands over her mouth to contain herself.

"Olivia," she began slowly with a soft but persistent voice. "What did you do?"

"She's dead," she responded before what seemed like exhausted sobs broke out. Rachel knew this wasn't the first time she cried tonight. Hoarseness was already present with the squeaking in her cries.

Rachel looked at Olivia as she heaved loudly. Her hair was tangled into a mess, with a few streaks of red in the front. Aside from her golden locks, red was the only other color Rachel could make out in the darkness. Olivia was covered in blood, with most of it pooling from her mouth. It took Rachel every amount of strength within not to act. Instead, she gulped heavily and waited for Olivia to explain. "I killed her, Rachel. I killed somebody." Her sobs continued. "I'm so sorry."

She was speechless. All she could do was stare past Olivia at the brunette teenager whose figure lacked all signs of life. In her head she repeated the same words over and over again… "She's someone's daughter, she's someone's friend, and she's someone just like me. She's someone's daughter, she's someone's friend, and she's someone just like me." These were the same words that Will and Emma drilled into her mind when she was being tortured and forced not to feed on innocent beings. When she got urges or didn't know how to fight her way out of temptation, she was told to repeat these words in her head to help. However, this was the first time she'd been in such a situation where she really needed it.

She never really imagined any of this would happen when she came up with her plan, and boy did she mess up the part where she said she wouldn't care… That was her problem… She cared more than anything in the world. So, she decided to form words to keep herself and Olivia contained for the time being; just until the others found them. Which, she hoped wouldn't be too long from now. She had to find a way to prevent the situation from blowing up in her face. She just didn't know the right words to say.

"Why did you kill her?" she asked, knowing it was a stupid question right after the words left her mouth. She really was bad at this. But, she knew how it felt to face your conscious after being drowned in blood with your victim by your side and it wasn't fun… She needed a distraction, so Rachel thought she'd give her one.

"It was Finn…" she began. Rachel rolled her eyes on reflex. Wasn't this whole mess about him in the first place? Seeing as though she'd probably cause the whole thing to blow up, she held her tongue and kept her lectures deep within her. Instead, she sat in silence, waiting for Olivia to continue. Although, if any other circumstance, she wouldn't be caught dead listening.

"I was looking for him and I couldn't find him, so I came out here." She picked up in her usual talkative manner. "Then I found him. He was behind a tree, kissing another girl." She now proceeded to shake.

"Her?" Rachel asked, referring to the deceased girl on the side of them.

"I was so stupid, Rachel." She huffed. "Why am I so easy when it comes to guys?"

Rachel wanted to just let it all out and unleash the truth on her. "You're easy because you have no self-esteem or control and you base everything you do on what guys think and not what you think, Olivia," is what she wanted to say. But, at this point, Olivia seemed to be an emotional volcano and if she erupted, they'd both fall into the pit of lava; not to mention that Rachel still couldn't remove her hands from her mouth.

Sighing with annoyance for her lack of words, she tried to piece some things together. "You're not stupid or easy, Olivia." A moment of silence filled the air. "It's just that you fall for the wrong people."

"Where are the right people, Rachel?" she begged for an answer. "Why can't I fall for the right people?"

She would thank her own self for it in the end, if what she was going to say would get her out of this mess. So, she decided to rip a few pages out of the Joseph Berry book of advice.

"The right people are hiding in the corners, Olivia. They're lurking in the shadows," She began, trying to imitate her father's sense of hope when he explained it to her, long ago. "They're standing behind all of the idiots that you come to notice first. They're where you'd least expect them to be. They're standing hopelessly by, watching their own hearts being broken, waiting for their right person to come along and sweep them away from all of the pain and misery they've felt; to sweep them from out of those corners and shadows, so they can feel the light against their own faces."

She started to sniffle again, until her sniffles turned into huffs and her huffs turned into cries; loud ones, she might add. That's when the unthinkable happened; the thing she'd been trying to avoid this whole time. Olivia reached forward, and wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck.

"Oh, thank you, Rachel. That really meant so much to me." Olivia cried.

Every muscle in Rachel's body strained almost to breaking points and every thought in her mind swept out of existence. Everything seemed to settle into slow motion. The only thing processing in her mind was the mind-curling smell that surrounded her at all angles and the aching hunger that she desperately needed to satisfy. It also didn't help that Rachel's clothes were now soaked with just about the same amount of blood and her nose was right by Olivia's neck, where a lot of the red liquid covered her. Every urge and craving that she fought every single day suddenly flowed back to her with the simple snap of a finger. She had to get out of there, but she couldn't. Even if she did manage to escape, she was already soaked in blood. Nothing would stop her from killing the other teens at the party. Her fangs remained seeped out through her gums and before long, the anger from before pooled back up into her chest. Her hunger was now a priority, and she needed to be stopped. But, before she could try and find a way out of it, her eyes roamed to the dead girl on the side of Olivia.

"Olivia!" Santana's voice called. They both turned to the three figures running towards them. All three of them stopped abruptly when they took in the image of the two. Olivia had her bloody hands rested on Rachel's arms, as Rachel's vein-stricken eyes were set still on the blood covering her clothes and skin. She didn't want to move, because she knew that if she did all hell would break loose. Instead, she remained completely still and repeated the same words over again. "Someone's child, someone's friend, and someone just like me. Someone's child, someone's friend, and someone just like me. Someone's child, someone's friend, and someone just like me." She didn't notice that she was rocking back and forth.

"Olivia, what did you do?" Sam asked with a bit of anger in his voice, watching Rachel's blood covered figure rock back and forth. "You know she's unstable when it comes to her urges. Someone, get her out of here, "he instructed.

Santana was the first to move forward. Holding out her hand for Rachel to grab, Rachel studied it for a moment. She knew that if she made any movements, the smell would hit her nose a little stronger, and she couldn't put an estimate on just how weak her self-control was at the moment. With the slightest movement of an arm, she'd be lunging forward to attack the motionless figure on the other side of Olivia.

"Just take my hand, Rachel. You're going to be okay," Santana insisted. "I promise."

It took a deep breath and a giant leap of faith, but sooner rather than later she found herself standing next to the dark haired girl. Looking down at the scene of Olivia looking up at them, she clung to Santana for support.

"It's everywhere. The smell is everywhere and I need it, Santana…" she explained through a clenched jaw. "I need it."

"C'mon, let's get you out of here." Santana said, grabbing her shoulders.

 ** _Olivia_**

Her heart was absolutely broken, watching Santana pull Rachel away from her. She couldn't believe that she'd actually done all of this; that she'd actually given in to her temptation. She'd murdered this innocent girl. She was a monster.

As Rachel and Santana sped away and Sam moved over to the girl to figure out how they were going to cover all of this up, she was left alone for a bit. She hugged her arms tighter as her chest stung with sobs she thought she'd already gotten out.

After you'd killed someone, there was no going back. She learned that long ago. It sat on your brain, never making it easier. She still remembered every single name of every single victim she'd taken away from this earth. She remembered every single face. Now, a Brandie was added to that list and a pretty, young girl would be taken away from her family in result of her jealousy.

She didn't even notice the person perching themselves on the side of her until she felt an arm slowly wrap around her shoulder. Turning her head, she met the eyes of the one person who would take the time to make sure that she was okay. He had always been her closest friend in the house. If anything, he understood her more than anyone else thought.

"El," she cried, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Shh," he cooed in her ear. "It's okay, everything's going to be okay."

"No, it's not Elliot. I'm a murderer. I'm a monster. I killed this poor girl in cold blood. I was being stupid over a boy." she sniffled remembering the voices earlier in her head. "He was right. I do belong in an asylum."

"Who was right?" Elliot raised a brow of confusion.

"Xavier." she told him.

He shook his head. "Now that's not true and you know it." he assured her. "You had a moment of weakness. Just like every single one of us. It's perfectly normal."

"I killed someone, El," she reminded him. "How is that normal?"

"We all have, Ollie." he used the nickname that he'd always called her, from the moment they were introduced in 1901. "Do you think I was always a do-gooder vampire before you met me?"

"Yes," she sighed, looking up into his eyes. "You've always been that way to me."

"That's because you didn't know who i was before Will and Emma found me." he assured her.

"Well, I don't want to." she told him. "You're perfect in my image."

"We're all far from perfect, Ollie. That's what i'm trying to tell you. It's a part of our nature. The only thing we can do about it is to learn from our mistakes."

"I just want someone to love me." She told him as they rose from the ground. "I want someone to look at me the way that Will looks at Emma everyday. Is that so much to ask for?"

"No," he told her, taking her into a hug.

"Why can't I find that, Elliot?" she cried into his shoulder. "Why can't I find the right guy to love me the way that I love him?"

He remained silent before Sam was calling her to help with the body. As she walked away, Elliot watched her closely before whispering to himself.

"Because you're looking in all of the wrong places. You haven't looked at what's right in front of you; at me."

 ** _Rachel_**

With a quick motion, they were now on a deserted road outside of the woods. Rachel knew it was a good thing they got out before catching the eyes of the many teenagers. She could only imagine what would happen if they discovered her like this.

"We should have stuck together," Santana admitted. "Will and Emma are going to be pissed."

She wanted to reply; give a reason as to why she was okay and didn't need to be babied. But, she couldn't speak. All her mind could focus on right now was the strong, iron smell that radiated from her clothes and tempted her crowded judgement.

"How are you doing?" Santana asked after getting no reply.

"I think I need to walk home by myself," Rachel replied.

"What? Are you crazy? No way," Santana exclaimed. "You're just going to attack and hurt an innocent victim after I leave. I'm not going to let you do that, Rachel." Rachel knew that she had a point, but she knew that if she kept her mind occupied enough, she'd be able to avoid it. It was a risk that she was willing to take. Anything went if it meant escaping her own personal embarrassment of struggling in front of another person.

"Santana," Rachel began, earning a glare from the girl. "I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me. I just want to go home and get these clothes far away from me. Go," she instructed. "See about Olivia. You don't have to worry about me. I can control myself."

"Rachel," she protested, but she stopped her.

"Santana, go." She didn't seem convinced, but a shift in her face hinted towards acceptance.

"Call me when you get home and let me speak to Will or Emma once you do call so I know that you're not lying to me, okay?" she asked.

"I promise," Rachel responded nonchalantly.

She counted the amount of times her foot hit the pavement to drown out her racing mind. She could admit that the smell wasn't impacting her as much by now, but that didn't mean she wasn't just as tempted. So, she tried everything to get rid of the thoughts.

First, she twirled her thumbs in front of her and tried not to touch them together. She knew it sounded stupid, but it worked for a little while. Then, she noticed the blood on her arms and she had to change her method. She decided counting her footsteps would be a better option.

"Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight," she whispered to herself. That was when she heard the crash.

The sound was a lot louder than she expected it to be; ruling out the possibility of it being just all in her head. When she opened her eyes, the smell of smoke in the near distance masked out the other one she'd been trying to get rid of. If she had to guess, the smoke seemed to radiate from an engine.

Picking up in speed, she proved her theory correct. A few miles up the road sat a silver car, crashed into a nearby forest tree.

There was no saving that could be done to it. It was totaled from one end to the other. She could have easily mistaken it for one of the smashed piles of metal in a junk yard. Even the back wind shield appeared smashed.

She stood there pondering for a moment. Making up her mind, she slowly turned and began to walk away. She needed to get home and out of these clothes. Besides, it wasn't like the police wouldn't discover it sooner or later. When they did, she had to be long gone. She didn't exactly know how she would explain that she was covered in blood. She had more things on her plate and getting involved with this would just add to the long list.

Then, she picked up on the slightest hint of a groan coming from the car's interior, signaling life. As if hitting a button in her brain, she instantly changed her mind. Within a second, she was at the side of the passenger window. It was terribly dark where she was standing, but she could make out a figure on the other side of the car. Tapping her elbow to the already-shattered glass, the shards fell like rain onto the seat. She got a better glance at the person on the driver's side.

She could only assume that the figure was male. In assuming this, she judged solely upon appearance. The broad shoulders and choice of apparel supported her theory. The person had their head rested against the steering wheel, facing the opposite direction. So, she couldn't exactly see his or her face. They were, however, wearing a Letterman jacket with her school's colors, so she assumed it was a teen from tonight's party. Drunk, she confirmed after she stuck her head in the window and got a whiff.

She backed away for a moment to catch her breath. She was new to this. Not once in her life had she ever gotten the chance to save someone. Even if she had gotten it, she probably would've rejected. But now, here she stood, with a dying person inside the car as she freaked out on the outside. She was afraid that she'd mess up.

She quickly tried to weigh out the pros and cons in her head, but realized she didn't have enough time. For all she knew, the person could already be dead.

Grabbing the handle of the passenger side, she pulled back with all of her strength. Within the amount of a few seconds, she chucked the large metal door to the other side of the road. There was no longer a barrier between her and the unconscious stranger.

Quickly, she maneuvered herself into the car. She noticed the roof caved in a bit. This was probably due to the impact of the tree. She developed a little claustrophobia, but she continued with her actions. Kneeling on the passenger seat, she ignored the pain of the glass slicing into her knees through her jeans.

She had to give the boy praise for being smart enough to fasten his seat belt, of all things. As she hovered over him, she noticed that the latch seemed to be stuck. The leather strap dug into every point of contact, most likely cutting off circulation. She considered crushing the plastic open with her hands, but knew there had to be a simpler solution. Reaching forward, she ripped the seat belt from its holder.

Ripping off the back of the driver's seat, she placed it flat against the two front seats. Brushing off the glass with the back of her hands, she placed support against the back of the teen's neck. With the slowest movement, she moved the figure away from the steering wheel, laying him flat on the two seats.

As soon as the moon light shown on the face, a gasp flew from her mouth. It wasn't because of the miraculous bruise and gash-free face of the boy. It was the familiarity in the boy's face. This wasn't just some random teenage boy who happened to crash after drunk driving. He was the boy she'd been trying to avoid for the past two days. He was Finn Hudson.

"Ah, Finn, what did you do? Drunk driving?" she asked him as if he would lift his head and answer. "Really? Aren't you supposed to be smart? I thought you were an honors student. Well, you gave me your pack of tissues, so I guess it's time I return the favor and save your life." She knew now what she had to do.

She clenched her eyes shut as she felt the pain in her hand. The shard of glass dragged smoothly across her palm as the red liquid pooled around it. Using her unharmed hand, she forced his mouth open and dropped the liquid against his tongue. She knew it was working when his head started moving against her forceful grip. All the while, she realized she was becoming weaker. She couldn't hold the large, muscular figure up for much longer.

She decided to move him out of there. She propped him against the side of the car. His eyes still seemed to be closed, despite his recent movement. But, she picked up on the steady beat of his heart. In discovering that, she thought she should check for any signs of trauma.

She knew that she had just given him her blood and that it would heal anything quickly, leaving no trauma at all. But, it was just a habit she picked up long ago. She wanted to make sure that it worked. She guessed it was the part of her that cared that was getting to her.

She considered Finn a very lucky person. He was going to be able to walk away from all of this without a single broken bone. Thanks to her, of course. He was lucky that she was already there. He was also lucky that she didn't walk away when she figured out that he was drunk driving, because she could've. And, if she did what she was going to do earlier; walk away and leave it for the police to deal with, he probably wouldn't be alive right now.

Sitting next to him, she threw in the towel. Her blood had proven effective and there were no previous injuries to search for. As she looked back at the crashed car, she wondered how she was going to be able to handle all of it. Then, a single groan pulled her from her train of thought. Not long after, she sensed movement.

"Am I dead?" he asked in a groggy and hoarse voice. "Where am I? Rachel?"

She nervously watched as his dark amber eyes met her blood-covered form. She knew that he wouldn't last too much longer before he was out again, so she tried to direct his attention to her. His eyes began drooping and his head started moving back and forth.

Snapping her fingers, she watched as his droopy eye sight caught her hand. "You're fading quickly, "she told him. His eyes seemed to be falling the more she spoke. "Hey," she began. "Look at me. You're not going to remember any of this when you wake up, got it? Forget that you're seeing me right now. Forget that I was even here in the first place. You were in a horrible wreck. The ambulance pulled you from the car." His weary eyes caught hers one last time; long enough for her to wrap him into her compulsion. Then, he was out and she was left alone to deal with everything.

Everything after that was a tough adventure. She couldn't quite explain it in a way that all people would understand. But, she'd try and sum it up.

She knew that Finn's injuries were non-existent, so she slung him over her shoulder. It took a lot; even for her. It had nothing to do with weight. Now, she wasn't exactly saying he was the lightest human being in the world, but what mostly got to her was the smell. As it entered her nose again, it was as if every bone and muscle in her body was trying to fight it off. It weakened her to every aspect, and it wasn't exactly the best time to be weak. After all, she had a lot of carrying to do.

On the first round, she made it to her front porch. She wanted to place him in his bed, but she didn't know where he lived and that'd involve going into the home, and she didn't exactly have an invitation. So, instead she settled for her own.

Placing Finn on the swing outside, she made sure that he wouldn't stir.

In the time it took her to return to the site of the crash, she was already covered in blood from two different people. When she placed her hand on the silver Porsche, her phone buzzed with eight missed calls. Rolling her eyes, she ignored them all and returned to what she was doing.

Once she finished, she realized that it really didn't take much effort for her. But, she had to admit that carrying a crashed car, for a few miles, at the speed of lightening was a little tiring. She sighed with relief once the job was completed.

The car was placed in the center of the junk yard as if nothing ever happened. Reaching into the driver's side, she miraculously recovered the keys that sat in the ignition. It took a bit of force to yank them out. Once she did, she used the little light that she could from the moon to examine them. He seemed to have a few key chains on the loop, aside his actual car key. She let out a humorless chuckle when they were mostly involving him. This included a football picture of himself, a metal with his jersey number on it, and a small metal football helmet with, again, his jersey number on the side. She'd never before seen such an extreme case of arrogance.

Walking back to his motionless figure on the front porch, she lifted him again with all the strength she could muster. Using his feet, she pushed the front door open, coming face to face with Will and Emma. Before they could burst out with the numerous amounts of questions, she reminded them that he was sleeping.

In agreement, they helped her upstairs. Setting up the bed in the guest room, they left her to help settle his still figure. Gently placing his head on the pillow, she removed his shoes and tucked him under the covers. Seeing as though his cell phone was nowhere to be found, his family would be stuck in the dark for tonight.

She didn't know if it was because of the human part inside of her or the fascination she kept as the whole situation unfolded, but she lingered around for another few moments. Sitting at the edge of the bed, she took in the rise and fall of his chest. She couldn't remember a time in her life when she was so fragile like this.

"A picture will last longer," the voice took her completely off guard.

Clearing her throat, she spoke, "I didn't know that you were awake."

"Where am I?" he wondered.

"I found you in the woods," she lied. "I didn't know where else to bring you. So, I brought you here. You're in our guest room. You crashed your car."

"There was a man," he blurted out, trying hard to remember previous events. "I was driving home and I didn't even see him. He came out of nowhere."

"What?" she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

He remembered more. "And, he was standing in the middle of the road. It was almost as if he was waiting for me to hit him." "That's all I remember."

She didn't know what to say to that. He was probably hallucinating or something. So, they lingered in the silence for a couple more moments. Then, he reached for her arm, sending chills up her spine. He was freezing cold to the touch.

"How did you find me, anyways?" he asked, turning the conversation to an unwanted topic.

"That's a story for another time," she replied, standing from the bed. "You hit your head really hard against that steering wheel tonight and I'm going to have to explain to Olivia why you're in our house tomorrow morning. We both need to get a lot of rest if we're going to survive."

"Olivia?" he started with confusion.

"She saw you kissing another girl and was extremely hurt by it; not that I care or anything. She can't take a hint."

"Wow, um, it's not what it looked like. Brandie came on too strong. She was drunk and she threw herself on me. I turned her down shortly after that." He explained as if her opinion of the matter was all he needed to influence.

"Why are you telling all of that to me?" she crossed her arms, taking him off-guard.

"I-uh" he stumbled over his words.

"This is the only time you're going to see me caring like this, Hudson. So, get some rest, okay _friend_? Goodnight."

Before she could close the door behind her, his voice took her off-guard again.

"Thank you, Rachel." He whispered through the darkness. "You didn't have to pull me out of that car but you did and I really appreciate it. And, to answer your question; Yes, I am an honors student. I just make really bad decisions sometimes."

Her breath caught in her throat. She'd compelled him. She'd compelled him to forget all of it. "How…" she couldn't even finish.

"Good night, _friend_."


	9. The Morning After

**Chapter 8**

 ** _1, 2, 3, 4, 5…_**

His eyes seemed to be the only thing capable of focusing on something. He said this because as his mind raged on its own path this morning, he never failed to lose sight of the multiple rotations the ceiling fan above him traveled in. He couldn't seem to remember a time when he wasn't so dizzy.

Besides the running thoughts in his head, his dizziness seemed to be one of the only things coming into prospect. Well, that, and the fact that his head was pounding and he woke this morning in a room completely unfamiliar to him.

The steering wheel must've knocked him a good one because he was as hazy as could be when last night's events came into play. It wasn't until her voice entered his mind again that he was jolting upward in realization.

He remembered everything then. He shook his head in a disappointed manner when he remembered that he'd hopped into his car after having alcohol. Then, he remembered the man standing in the middle of the road and his heart dropped all over again. He still had no idea what happened or even why it happened.

It couldn't have been one of the kids from the party, he thought. Although he couldn't quite make out the man's face, his stance hinted at the years the man faced. Also, he was wearing a suit. What kind of kid shows up to a kegger dressed in formal attire?

That's when he considered the possibility of hallucinating things. Maybe the man that he'd seen was just a side effect to the five beers he'd downed out in those woods. No, he instantly shut it down. Hallucinating wasn't really his style. It hadn't been since he was eight years old, sitting in the backyard and having conversations with Alfie; his very best imaginary friend.

This only left him to one conclusion in the mystery. Something was happening. Someone was here; coming for him. Maybe they'd been watching him this whole time. Maybe they'd even been waiting on that curb, knowing that he was drunk enough and wouldn't be able to miss them. Maybe they wanted him to find them; to hit them.

Okay, he was officially losing it, he thought. He needed to get out of this extremely comfortable, unfamiliar bed fast. He knew that if he stayed any longer, he'd convince himself that he had a sixth sense.

The only thing that he didn't consider a figment of his imagination was what he actually physically remembered. It was _her_. If he thought his mind was too consumed with her before, being pulled from that car last night definitely did the trick.

His brain was doing back flips. He didn't remember much of it, but it wasn't too difficult to put the pieces together. When he woke up sitting on the side of his totaled Porsche she was sitting next to him. Next, he remembered her begging for him to not remember any of it.

It didn't work, obviously. He remembered it. He remembered her. He remembered all of it. After he woke again sprawled out across a swing on a front porch, he wondered how she'd removed him from the last position so easily. And now, remembering their conversation last night, he knew that she was lying to him.

There were no ambulances that found him, he was sure of it. He wasn't even sure if the actual police were informed of the crash. Some pretty big questions would rise when they'd come across a large forest tree dented almost the point of splitting in half from the impact of the car.

He just couldn't understand why Rachel initially didn't want him to know that she saved him. He wouldn't have been mad. If anything, he was grateful of the fact.

Rachel, he thought. He realized that that was where he was. He was in _her home._ He couldn't understand why the thought excited him. He could only imagine the trouble that he'd be in at his own when he'd return.

He knew that it was probably already out in the open that he never came home last night. Carol was never a fan of this; especially not on school nights. Not to mention the fact that he'd come to face Rachel's parents sooner rather than later. That was, if he didn't try escaping out the window first.

No, that wouldn't work. It wasn't the respectable thing to do. He was stuck with no way out. He usually was great with meeting new people. But, not after he'd taken up residence in their guest bedroom after attempting to drive home drunk. He could only imagine what these people would think of him. He could only imagine what _she_ thought of him. _So much for good impressions_ , he thought.

He figured he'd clean up his act a little, not to feel like a complete jackass. Getting up from the bed, he made the sheets and comforter up the same way he did every morning in his own home. Then, it came time to face reality. He'd have to hold his breath and strap on his balls. He'd have to go down the stairs and face the people who owned the house he had stayed in last night. He only hoped that Rachel would be present to make things 100 percent less awkward. Even if that were the case, he knew he was still due to face Olivia.

The first hint of a good start was issued once he found the upstairs hallway empty. All six doors to all six rooms were closed. He never noticed it last night for obvious reasons, but once he did his breath caught in pure amazement. Just the upstairs alone could hold his entire house. This place was huge. And beautiful, might he add? The crystal chandelier that hung in the center sparkled as rays of light from the surrounding windows hit it in the perfect angle, confusing his mind. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that he was in a museum.

Slowly walking closer to the staircase, something from the various displays on the walls caught his attention; a painting. It was familiar to him. The way in which it was painted messed with his mind as well. He recognized this technique. The bright yellows, reds, oranges, and pinks that made up the woman in the front of it masked out the dark blues, greens, and purples of the most important part of the painting; the field in which the woman was standing.

A certain scene flew to his mind then.

" _We leave in ten minutes," Percy patted him on the shoulder, making her way toward the exit. Instead of taking that as the warning it was intended to be, Finn ignored her. His feet remained glued in the position of which he was standing._

 _With a glass of his favorite scotch in his hands and his best suit covering his body, he stood in front of one of his paintings. He'd bribed one of the curators, beforehand, to place it in the art gallery that had been raved about in town for weeks now. Now, as he stood in the middle of the town hall, his own confidence in himself and his painting allowed him to block out the people around him; Crystal Willow's_ _prominent upper class._

 _Just as he took another sip of the dark, amber liquid, two voices appeared to be nearing his figure. Stepping to the side, he pretended to look at the painting on the side of his own, hoping they'd take the time to look over it. His hopes came true when the girl spoke._

 _She was a short thing, he noted. No one would see anything out of the ordinary in it. However, there was something different about her. His eyes remained trained over the brunette. As all of the other women in the room, she wore a long hooped dress with an elegant floral pattern; fabric that only the richest of the richest could afford._

 _And that he appeared to be, Finn thought; the man whose arm she had hers looped in, that was. He was clearly uninterested, to Finn's distaste. However, that did not retract his attention from the girl in the slightest. He'd never seen someone's eyes light up so much when they'd viewed his paintings. Granted, this was the first time he was showing this piece, but you get the point._

 _That's what was different about her, he figured out. Yes, she wore the same attire and jewelry as every other girl in this room. Yes, her heels were just as high and her hair was just as styled. But, there was something different in her face. It was obvious that she didn't fit in and that she was new to this part of society._

 _She was more graceful in her walk. Her presence hinted at years of freedom as opposed to the other people in the room, clearly having been trained for this part of their lives since they were small children. Her amazement drowned out the composure that every other girl in the room held._

" _Nathaniel, look at this one." She smiled, staring up with child-like eyes. "I think it's my favorite, yet!"_

" _It's a kitten in the grass," the man observed, clearly wishing they weren't wasting the time of day._

" _No, you're not looking at it correctly," she explained with as much enthusiasm as he's ever seen in a person before. And better, it was all over something he'd painted. "It's all about perception."_

" _Per-what?" the man asked, looking down at the girl as if she were crazy._

" _Perception," she repeated, more than ready to explain it to him. "It's the ability to take things in using your senses."_

" _Well, we're looking at this painting right now so I guess we're using our senses."_

" _That's it; you're missing the hidden meaning."_

" _Amelia, it's a painting of a kitten. What more is there to perceive?"_

" _The artist is using the light colors to focus on the kitten in the front," she explained, pointing to the part of the picture she was referring to. "The dark colors in the background block out the most important part of the painting. You see that barn in the distance? Look closer, that's where the kitten comes from. The mother cat's right there and there is the other kittens. Do you see?"_

 _He ignored her question all together. Instead, he pulled the back of the nearby curator's suit. The man clearly got the boy's attention. Confused, he nervously looked up at the man._

" _How much?" he asked, pointing to Finn's painting before digging in his pockets. He assumed it was to find his wallet._

" _Well, sir, that's actually within the artists' decision." He replied as if he were on death row._

" _Well, find me the artist then," he demanded._

" _Nathaniel, you don't have to-"_

" _Do you like the painting or not, Amelia?"_

" _It's very beautiful, but-" He cut her off again._

" _Then, hush. I insist on buying this for you. Consider it an early engagement gift." "Now, it is in my request to speak with the artist."_

" _I'm sorry sir," the boy started. "He wishes to remain anonymous."_

" _That's absurd," the man scoffed. "I'm sure you can bend the rules just this once."_

" _Nathaniel, it's really not that big of a fuss." The girl tried to metal in._

" _You are almost to become my fiancé, God dammit!" He exclaimed, gaining some attention around them. When the man noticed this, he took a deep breath to regain composure. "If I want to purchase something for you, I can and you know that I will. I love you, Amelia."_

 _An awkward silence fell over the three, causing the girl to lower her head in shame. He could tell that she hated the man's ways. He wondered how long she'd had to deal with them. Stepping in, he decided to end her suffering._

" _I believe I'm the artist you're looking for," he commented smoothly, holding his hand out for the man to shake. No matter how scary this man may have appeared to any other person in the room, he did nothing to Finn's stance, "Sir."_

" _Finally," he smiled, offering his hand back. Finn's only focus remained on the girl hiding behind the man's arm. "It's such a beautiful painting you have here, sir. A masterpiece, even, if I do say so myself."_

" _Really?" he raised an eyebrow. "I thought you only saw a kitten in some grass?" The girl's laughter was like honey to his ears._

" _Well, I changed my mind," he defended himself before shooting a glare behind him. "It'd make a beautiful piece for the home their bringing up for my soon-to-be bride and me." He assured him._

" _I appreciate your interest, Mr. uh-" He trailed off because he didn't know him from Adam._

" _Maddox," he replied with confidence. "Nathaniel Maddox; son of Giuseppe Maddox, the mayor himself."_

" _Finnegan Hudson," he replied._

" _It's nice to be acquainted with you, Mr. Hudson. Now, I feel as if though we can get to business. What's your price?"_

" _Free," he told the man after a period of thought. His disappointment to give away his painting swept from him the moment he watched the girl's face light up. "Consider it an early wedding gift, for the two of you. Nothing pleases me more than to see such love."_

" _That's very kind of you." Nathaniel replied, reaching his hand out to shake his once more. "Perhaps you should join us for dinner some time? It's the least I can do to offer gratitude."_

" _Perhaps," he repeated, getting a glance at his watch. He knew that Percy probably gave up on him and left on her own. He didn't care. "Well, it was nice meeting you, but if you will, I'd like to get a chance to view other artwork before I have to leave."_

 _He was closely studying an interpretation of a field of wildflowers across the room from where he stood before when she approached him. She was so quiet about things that he nearly jumped out of his skin when she spoke._

" _You must be used to offers on all of your paintings," She smiled, looking to the picture before them._

" _You'd be surprised if I told you the truth," he replied jokingly, turning to give her his undivided attention. She was like an art piece, herself. That was just the guy in him thinking that, though. He knew she probably got that every day. Her arrogant fiancé gave him that impression._

" _Well, I've only viewed one." She admitted what he already knew. That was the first one he'd shown in a long time. "But, it was enough to pique my interest and I'm sure a lot of other people feel the same way."_

" _I'm Amelia, by the way." She smiled, grabbing his hand and shaking it, after curtsying. Instantly, he was drawn to the way she wasn't reserved._

" _Well, it's nice to be formally introduced," he smiled._

" _And, you're Finnegan Hudson if I remember correctly?" she asked._

" _Correct; although all my friends call me Finn." He replied._

" _Well, thanks, Finn." She stepped closer to him. "You really didn't have to give us your painting for free. You must've worked so hard on it."_

" _No, I insist," he assured her. She didn't know what else to say for a moment._

" _I've never seen you around here before, Mr. Hudson," she changed the subject. "Are you new to town?"_

" _Uh-yes," he smiled, watching as she moved to grab the glass of scotch from his hand._

" _Do you mind?" she whispered, looking behind her for roaming eyes._

" _Go ahead," he chuckled, keeping in mind that they'd only been formally introduced moments before. She was definitely far from being in place with this part of society._

 _After taking a sip of the liquid, her face curled at the burn before taking a long relieving sigh and handing the glass back over to him. "I'm sorry; they just don't allow it for girls like us."_

" _Who's they?" he wondered._

" _Who else?" She asked this as if he knew the answer. "Our glorious and all-knowing husbands, of course," She chuckled with a bit of a mocking tone behind her words._

" _So, you're not fond of your future fiancé?" he laughed._

" _He's a very charming man." she admitted. "Every girl in town seems to think so."_

" _What do you think?" He challenged._

" _I'm sorry; I cut you off before you were going to tell me where you're from."_

" _New York," he lied, playing along with yet another move by her to change the subject. She did that a lot, he noted. "We traveled over a couple of days ago; my friends and I."_

" _Wow," she smiled in amazement. He figured that was yet another thing to fascinate her. She'd probably had not even been out of the town. He could already feel the desire to show her the world. "So, you're a Yankee?"_

" _Is that a bad thing?" he smirked._

" _Just don't let Nathaniel and his father find out," she laughed._

" _Do they have a hit list or something?" he joked._

 _She giggled, pointing her finger in his direction. "You're funny, Finn. I like you."_

" _Amelia, we're leaving in five minutes!" Nathaniel called from across the room, before Finn could respond to her._

" _I guess that's my cue." She nodded, grabbing the sides of her dress, preparing to exit. "It was really nice to meet you, Finn. You should definitely accept Nathaniel's offer. I'm sure it would be really nice to have you over for dinner, sometime."_

" _It was really nice to meet you too, Amelia. Tell Nathaniel that I will be in touch."_

" _Alright," he didn't miss her excitement at his answer._

" _Amelia!" the man called again, this time with more force behind his voice._

" _I'm coming, dear," she assured him before turning back to Finn. Clumsily moving away, she almost tripped over her own feet scurrying back to her fiancé's side._

 _He could only laugh, watching her. He knew from that moment on that this was only the beginning of something that would change his life for the better._

And, it did. Looking at the picture of the girl standing in the field, he felt a jolt of sadness. Everything good was swept away from his life in just a short amount of time. The forever they'd been planning was ripped from them within the course of one night; one very horrid night that he'd never be able to erase from his memory; the night he lost the love of his life, forever.

The banging of something downstairs interrupted his thought process. His feet were like clouds down each step, careful not to make a single sound. Then, a creak in the third to last step sounded, sending a cringe through his body.

This made no impact on the voices sounding from what he assumed to be the kitchen, however. Getting closer, he leaned against the conjoining wall, trying to get a picture of what he'd be walking into.

He recognized Rachel's voice; however, the others' seemed foreign to him.

"You're trying way too hard," she sounded.

"What do you mean?" asked a woman. He assumed it was their foster mother; Elle or something like that. He didn't quite remember what Mrs. Chang said her name was.

"I'm sure he would have been fine with scrambled eggs," Rachel told the woman. "You could feed a small village with all of this food. There's no way he's going to eat all of this."

"Well, I don't know what he likes," the woman defended herself. "I'm foreign to this kind of stuff. You know that."

"Don't worry, sweetie," An older man's voice came into the conversation. "I'm sure he'll love it." Finn now assumed that it was Rachel's foster father. Will, if he wasn't mistaken.

"It's the thought that counts," another girl added into the mix. He didn't recognize it as Olivia's.

"I have a thought for him," another girl replied sarcastically. Okay, he spoke too soon. He'd have to add clearing the air with Olivia to his to-do list.

"Retract the claws, would you? It's not our fault that you can't take a hint." Rachel fired back.

"Emma!" Olivia exclaimed, probably for protection against Rachel.

"Both of you," the woman, who he now knew was Emma, responded, "Enough."

"Rachel, you never told us how you know this boy in the first place," Emma added as something was being stirred in the background.

"He's her welcoming committee partner," Olivia commented unenthusiastically.

"Thanks, _Rachel_ ," Will replied, causing a round of laughter from the family.

"Yeah," he finally heard her voice again. "What Olivia said, I guess." He didn't miss the awkwardness in her voice. It appeared to him that she got nervous when she was put on the spot by her family. "We're friends, or something."

"You never told us you made a friend," Her parents sounded thrilled. It kind of made him smile. He guessed they weren't used to it.

"Hello," Olivia interrupted the moment. "Are we forgetting about what happened last night?"

The group became more silent than Finn's liking. He took this as a sign that he'd have to man up soon enough. Without thinking, he slowly approached the group.

The kitchen was a disaster. There were dirtied pots and pans everywhere. Along with what appeared to be flour plastered all over the countertops and the tall ginger woman's pink apron. He also didn't miss the various cook-books spread in between these areas.

All smiles met his face; well, except for two. Rachel looked unsure of things and Olivia took this as her moment to dramatically storm out of the room. He looked to the floor then.

"Excuse me, where are my manners?" the woman commented, throwing her apron off and making her way around the counter. "Finn, I'm Emma, and this is my husband, Will; Elliot, Sam, Santana, you're already aware of Olivia, and Rachel, whom you've probably already been introduced to, as well."

"It's nice to meet all of you," he replied sincerely. Then a thought occurred. "Should I go talk with Olivia?

"Don't worry about her. She does it a lot. She'll come around eventually." Will moved forward to wrap a welcoming arm around the taller boy's shoulder. "It's good that you're finally awake. Are you feeling okay?"

"Uh-yes sir." He replied, nervously. He thought for a moment before making an effort to change the subject. He never thought being the center of attention would feel like a bad thing. "What's all this?"

Emma held up a plate. "We hope you're hungry. I made lots of breakfast!" she smiled, flashing her pearly whites.

Finn knew then that there was nothing to fear now. These seemed like very nice people. He was glad that they were welcoming instead of interrogating him for spending the night in their guest room, completely unannounced. He wondered if Rachel received any type of punishment. Who was he kidding? These people were their very own version of the Brady Bunch.

Emma wasn't anything close to a chef, he had to admit, but he forced every bit down with all of the enthusiasm he could muster within him. He thought it was a bit odd that the others seemed to be silently enjoying the meal, but he didn't make it a visible problem. Things seemed to calm down when they fell into what he assumed to be their normal daily chit-chat. He'd only been brought back up into the conversation when one of them decided to ask him a question. It was mostly Emma who did all of the asking, but Will didn't fail to jump in either.

By the end of breakfast, he'd developed a strong liking for Rachel's family. They were a little more reserved and quiet than his own, but that's what made them unique. After helping with the dishes, he resorted back to what he knew best, Rachel's side.

As she wiped down the table with a hot dish cloth, he pretended to arrange the chairs. "So, you're family's really cool."

"I'm glad you think so. You can have them if you want."

He only laughed, shaking his head, looking to his feet. When he lifted his head back up, he looked past Rachel, out the glass door leading to their back patio. Olivia was sitting alone, staring off into the forest that surrounded their backyard.

"I should probably go talk to her, shouldn't I?" he asked, hoping Rachel would convince him otherwise. Confrontation was something he never really was good with.

"Well, you got yourself into this mess. Do you have the balls to get yourself out of it?" she challenged, trying to hide her smirk.

"Wow, not the answer I was hoping for." He chuckled. "I thought we were friends now?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You just openly admitted it to your foster parents," he laughed.

"I knew that creak from the staircase was you coming down to listen in on us," she playfully rolled her eyes.

"Well, I couldn't miss you arguing with your mom about what I would prefer to eat for breakfast, could I?" he joked. But, before he could get any type of reaction, her face dropped. He wondered if it was something he said. She confirmed this thought.

"She's not my mom," she corrected him. "Just, call them Will and Emma, okay?"

"I'm sorry," he instantly apologized.

"I just thought that she was over-doing it," she ignored it, returning to her former playful mannerism. He almost went blank, trying to recover from her mood swing. She rolled her eyes again when he laughed. "I don't know. I never had any friends for them to meet before. I guess I was a little nervous, okay?"

"Did Rachel Berry just openly confirm that, not only are we friends, but she actually cares what I think?" he mocked.

"Just," she lost her train of thought for a moment. "Just finish wiping this stupid table with me." He wasn't stupid. He noticed the smile that she was trying so hard to hide the first time it appeared on her face.

"And, yes, you should go talk to Olivia, because you were the one in the woods with a girl and you're the one who gave her the wrong impression." Rachel added.

"Wow where did that come from, Ms. Judgy?"

"Her attitude is making all of us moody. The sooner it's gone the sooner we can return to normal."

"Funny, I thought only you had that effect on people…" he joked, causing her to throw the wet towel at him.

"I can make that wet towel this knife in an instant," she replied. "Choose wisely."

"And, I'm going to take that as my cue." He nodded.

She watched him slide the glass door open and head outside. Olivia's head didn't turn when the door sounded behind her. In fact, she remained perfectly unaffected, leading him to believe that either she was really good at ignoring people or that she was really deep in her train of thought.

Luckily, there was an empty chair right on the side of her. Without permission, he perched himself in it and waited for her to face him. When she never did, he decided that it would be the right thing to do to kick things off. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he'd be able to get himself out of this mess.

Since it was so early in the morning, the sun had yet to come up. This left the two of them sitting in the darkness.

"Olivia, can we talk?" he asked. He hoped that he'd get some form of response.

"I have nothing to say to you, Finnegan."

"Wow, how'd you guess my full name like that?" He knew that it was off topic, but it took him a bit off guard.

"It's not like it's that hard to figure out." She rolled her eyes. "And I read over your file in the Guidance Department."

"Let's pretend that I didn't just hear that," he mumbled under his breath.

"I can't believe I ever even allowed myself to fall for a guy like you," she started, rubbing her eyes. "Gosh, I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid," he assured her. "You're like me; you're a hopeless romantic."

"Did you like her?" she asked, with tear-filled eyes facing him. "Is that why you kissed her? Was it because you're a hopeless romantic like me?"

"No," he sighed trying to think of the right words that wouldn't upset her. "Olivia, you've got it all wrong."

"What are you talking about?"

"What you saw last night," he started, "It wasn't real. Well, yeah, she kissed me. But, I didn't return it." "Brandie was really drunk and she came on too strong. I turned her down moments after."

"What?" she seemed horrified for reasons unknown to him.

"I'm sorry that seeing us gave you the wrong idea, Olivia. And, I'm sorry that you got hurt. That would never be my intention. You're a really nice girl." He felt like he was walking on eggshells.

"But?" she seemed to know that it was coming. Wiping her eyes, she crossed her arms and waited for it.

"But, we wouldn't work." He assured her.

"You don't know that," she argued.

"Yes, I do," he argued back. "You're too nice of a girl and it wouldn't be fair to you. I'm getting over a really bad break up and my heart is not in the right place right now. I'd only end up hurting you and that's the last thing I want to do." "I hope you can understand that, Olivia. I don't want you to be mad at me anymore. You're really sweet and you'd make the perfect friend."

"I'm not sure…"

"It's perfectly understandable," he nodded in acceptance. "Do whatever you feel is right for you. Just, please don't be mad at me anymore. I can't take that."

"I'll try to be your friend, okay?" she replied. That was sooner than he thought. "I'm just going to need some time."

"Take all the time in the world." He smiled sincerely, standing with her. "Can I get a hug or is that too much for you, right now?"

"I might be able to handle that," she nodded.

"Good," he smiled, taking her in a friendly embrace.

Pulling away, she wiped her eyes again with a smile, "I could get used to it."

They agreed to go their separate ways when Olivia told him that she wanted to go talk to Elliot. He instantly agreed, feeling comfortable enough to find his way back into the house. This time, Rachel was in the living room, fastening the strings on her boots. He nearly forgot that in just another two hours, they'd be heading back to school.

"Crap, I forgot about Percy and Toni," he told her.

"Who?" she furrowed her eyebrows.

"My family," he furthered.

"Right," she replied, standing from the couch.

"I should probably get going if I'm going to make it in time to get ready for school."

It seemed like she was struggling to get out what she was thinking. "Do you-uh-want a ride?"

He was speechless. Did Rachel Berry just ask that? Wow, they were making progress. He'd like to think he had that old pack of tissues to thank.

"I mean, I-uh, I know you crashed your car, so…" It was amusing to watch her struggle. He remained silent just for the fun of it.

"You probably have your family to bring you, or whatever, but I was just offering, if you wanted." She looked to the floor now. "You don't have to."

"I have a car, so I could-uh-I could drive us. I'm sure Sam and Olivia wouldn't mind riding with Elliot and Santana. And, Emma and Will seem to like you, so I don't think they'd be against it."

He smirked watching her squirm under his gaze.

"Under one condition," he finally put an end to her series of verbal suicide. "When I get a car back, you have to let me return the favor."

She thought about it for a moment. He knew that this was all new to her and she was anything other than good at it; at being friends. Once again, he enjoyed her awkwardness.

"Sure," she nodded slowly.

"What, no smart remark or anything?" he pressed. "I'm changing you, Rachel Berry."

"In your dreams," she rolled her eyes.

"Shake on it," he stated, pushing all of the joking aside.

The moment their hands met, something within him moved. With the look on her face, he knew that she felt it too. It reminded him of a time that he'd embedded in his brain long ago.

" _Careful, Mr. Hudson," Amelia commented as they strolled through one of the many gardens in the backyard of the large, white, wooden home. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you are trying to steal the hearts of both my fiancé and his father."_

" _They're very interesting people," he chuckled, watching his feet move along the concrete pathway. He'd been coming to the home for at least three months now. Their dinners were becoming a weekly occasion. So much so, that the three had already been well acquainted with Toni and Percy. He couldn't miss the sudden interest that Nathaniel took in his blonde friend. "I've developed quite a liking."_

" _You know," she started, stopping to pick one of the many flowers that sat on the bushes surrounding them. "You don't fool me, Mr. Hudson." He loved the way she called him this. "I know the real reason why you keep coming back."_

" _Well, the food does leave me reeling at the end of the night." He admitted, rubbing his full belly. They'd just exited the dining room moments before. Nathaniel and his father invited him into the study for drinks, but he figured it'd be more polite to keep Amelia in his company. She hadn't Percy tonight to talk about girly things._

" _The real reason you keep coming back to these dinners is to have a chance to see me," she winked before giggling her tail off._

 _That was another thing that had progressed over these past three months; their feelings. It was less than ideal in Finn's eyes, and if things were different, he wouldn't even think about pursuing. But, it was her… She was all he thought of nowadays and he knew the same went for Amelia._

 _They'd perfected dancing around things, of course. However, her frequent, playful and flirty comments kept him perfectly certain that her heart was in the same place. He just wished they weren't in this position. Nathaniel was becoming closer to him and the two were set to be married in less than a year away. The thought alone made him horribly ill._

" _What are you suggesting?" he pretended to be taken off guard._

" _Only what you've been hiding for days at a time now." She smiled, placing the flower behind her ear. "I see the way you look at me."_

" _Which way is that?"_

" _You're drawn to me," she began, moving closer to him. "You're hopelessly falling for me, deeper and deeper every day."_

" _Is that so?" he stepped forward._

 _Biting her pinky finger, she giggled a while longer before turning serious again. "Relax, Mr. Hudson. I'm only horsing with you. I got the idea from the love novel I'm in the process of reading."_

" _Really?" he asked._

" _Nathaniel says they're bad for me." She explained, moving closer towards the side of the house. "He says they're blocking my ability to think rationally in the real world. But, I like them."_

" _I sense a lack of imagination for my dear friend," Finn replied._

" _It would appear so," she rolled her eyes._

" _So, tell me about this novel..." he changed the subject the moment the air around them turned tense. "What happens next?"_

" _Well, the guy lays it all on the line for the girl," she smiled, explaining the whole thing to him. He loved the way her eyes lit up with passion as she spoke. "He tells her that she's correct and that there's always been this…this tether between them. He was just scared of telling her because he thought it would tarnish his reputation."_

" _And then?"_

" _Like every other love story there is, of course…" she started, stopping to face him. "They kiss."_

" _Hmm," he thought for a moment._

" _Like this?" he asked. Taking her completely off-guard, he grabbed her hand and swiftly guided her behind a tall tree on the side of the house. Out of sight from anyone in the house or moving outside of it, he leaned down after caressing her cheeks with his hands._

 _The moment their lips met, something went off inside of him. It was as if the entire world stopped and every bolt of lightning from every storm in the sky ignited around them. Irony came into play then; a loud clap of thunder pulling them from each other._

 _She seemed in a daze, looking back up at him with droopy eyes. He could only smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. When her lips parted, he braced himself. He knew she was going to speak her opinion._

" _Was that okay?" he beat her to it._

" _That depends on one thing," she looked up at him and then back at the sky above them. "Did you know about the weather?"_

" _Why?" he wondered._

" _Because that's how the last chapter in my book ended. After they realized that they belonged together, it started raining around them."_

" _Then, I guess it was meant to be." He shrugged his shoulders._

" _Yeah," she replied, still pretty breathless, "Maybe so."_

* * *

 **I enjoy reading such lovely reviews! Thank you :)**


	10. Cars and Stereotypes and Grapes, Oh My!

**Chapter 9**

"I've drowned only once before in my lifetime, with each rapid current tugging at my heart. I was torn. Do I sink or do I float? I could not choose. My mind was in crumbles. I lost my balance. Maybe I never had a balance in the first place. You knew this. You took it from me. You watched me as I fell into the dark, nothingness. Every strand of promises broken, you chose flight. You found the shore, light hitting your face in every place that your hands once did mine. On a new path of freedom, you treaded without a trace of guilt. I watched as I clung to what breath I had left. The three steps you took forward knocked me three back. As the last tear fled from my tightly shut lids, I let go. Light was no longer a possibility. I'd been robbed, cruelly, of everything that I held dear. You left me broken, alone, and most of all…scared. Love no longer exists."

Reciting for the last time, Rachel set the pen down on her desk. She knew that if she tried to revise any further, she'd screw the whole thing up.

Nowhere was it close to her wake-up call. However, she was nowhere close to tired. It'd been this way since 1:30 this morning. That's about the same time she had to calm herself from the panic attack that shot her from her bed.

She dreamed of him again tonight. And, it was nothing like before. Sure, she'd see him in every little motion picture her mind created during the night. But, last night was different. This time he'd starred in it. Vivid was all she could think of at the moment to describe it. It was like she was living it; like it was actually happening to her again. Lucid, that's what it had been.

Every word that left his mouth was still clear, as day. She still felt every place he touched her. Her arms ached; so did the sides of her cheeks. Last, the most vivid of them all, were those certain pair of blue eyes.

She was scarred, that was for sure. Those blue eyes lived in her memory. So did every other part of him. And, that's all she saw last night. It was almost as if she were infected with him. That's how she felt nearly soaring from the bed an hour ago.

Poetry seemed to be the best solution tonight. It allowed an escape for her mind. It helped in seeking solace. She figured it'd worked the moment her breaths slowed and her heartbeat returned to normal. As always, she'd be fine. Not good, not great; just fine.

Closing the notebook, she turned to face her lamp-lit room. It was still very early in the morning hours. The digital clock on the side of her bed read 2:27. With this being said, she knew that trying to go back to sleep would no longer be an option. This left her with nothing else to do.

The piano would only cause a riot with the others in the house. Drawing would only lead to the face she did not want to see. And, there was no one she could talk to, if she wasn't including the walls in her list of options.

The moon suddenly caught her attention then. It was beautiful. Turning off her lamp, she allowed the perfect crescent to provide the light. She began to hum then, lifting herself on the bench by her window.

Turning the tiny metal lock, she figured they wouldn't mind if she stepped out for a bit. Forget that, she corrected herself. They wouldn't even be awake to mind it. Using the wood above the now-opened space, she slung her body down two stories. As usual, she stuck her landing on the dark and dewy lawn.

Picking up her pace, she found herself at the edge of the forest within seconds. The falls were loud. Maybe even a little louder than normal. The silence had to be the cause. This was a rare time to be out and about; especially on a school night in the middle of the week.

She found pleasure in this. It was more peaceful now. There were no horns being bumped in the distance, heartbeats weren't as strong in her ears, and no one was calling her name. Climbing to the tallest branch, she rested her head against the rough wood behind her and trained her eyes on the celestial figures in the sky. Too embarked in her surroundings, she was never able to determine when she dozed off.

She was on the forest floor once she woke. As groggy as she was then, she was able decipher that she fell somewhere in the middle of her slumber. She cringed, knowing she'd have to take a shower once she was back. Mud covered her figure now, as well as the leaves embedded in her long, dark locks. The only plus was the fact that she didn't feel any pain on the trip down. That was, until she realized that she had to pop her arms back into socket.

The soft light of the morning guided her back to the home. That was the same time she saw the slim figure waiting for her in the backyard with her arms crossed. She wondered what time it really was.

"Rough night?" she asked once Rachel got into a close enough distance. The soft voice made her feel a hint of guilt she didn't possess before. By the stern look on Emma's face, she already knew that she was in for it.

"I couldn't sleep and there was nothing to do in the house," she whispered, keeping her eyes dead-bolted to the ground. Any eye contact with the woman and her case would be sealed. "I didn't want to wake all of you up with the piano, so…"

"Well, that's very kind of you, Rachel. But, I'm sure you could've found something to keep you entertained; especially with that giant library you keep above your bed."

She hadn't thought of that.

"I'm sorry," She knew she couldn't argue. It would only elevate things.

"I know that you are," her face softened a bit. "But, Rachel, we already had this discussion."

She was right. About a week ago, after she'd brought Finn into their home, they'd sat all of them down at the dining table and had an ear- splitting, hour-lasting parental lecture. They explained how much more careful they had to be around here; especially after Olivia's stunt. They informed them that they'd be tightening their grip on authority. They ensured that the consequences of their actions would potentially lead to death. They laid laws; laws of which Rachel never took seriously, until now.

"It won't happen again," Rachel promised, with no emotion behind it.

She thought for a moment before clapping her hands together. "Here's what we're going to do."

Rachel looked at her as if she were insane. They'd never gotten to this point before when she found herself in trouble. In normal confrontations, they'd be finished by now. One of them would've walked away already; that one mostly being her.

"It's closing in on 5, so go upstairs and get cleaned up for school. When you get back down, I'll be waiting in the kitchen. I want your cell phone, earphones, and charger handed over by then."

Rachel scoffed out of surprise. "What?" she asked incredulously.

"You heard me."

"No," she replied with force behind it. She couldn't sound more like the typical whiny teenage girl at this point. She was turning into Olivia. "You can't do that to me, Emma."

"Yes, I can." She argued. "My word is final."

"Are you being serious right now?" she asked, running a hand through her hair. "Emma, music is the only thing holding me together right now. How do you think I've been going to school every day?"

"You're being dramatic, Rachel." She replied, uninterested.

"No, that's Olivia. Not me, okay." She felt the tears burning behind her eyes. Gosh, she felt like a child. "I won't be able to function, Emma. I'll kill someone."

"You won't," Emma assured her. "We taught you stronger than that; you did perfectly fine before cellphones were invented and it's not like I'm taking away your piano. You'll still be able to play it."

"Just, at the convenience of everyone else in the house, right?" Rachel remarked, crossing her own arms.

"Rachel, I'm doing this to teach you the consequences of your actions. You went against Will and me after we asked all of you not to. You have to have some sort of punishment."

"But, not my music, Emma," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Rachel…"

Defeated, she turned her back to the woman, heading inside the house, after saying one last thing. "Yeah, well, you can choke on it."

By the time she finished her shower, her mood was at an all new level of sour. Just ask Olivia. One sly comment was all it took for Rachel to punch and break the girl's jaw. Her cries and Santana's coos of comfort were the last things she heard, heading down to the kitchen.

Emma was right. She was sitting with a cup of coffee and a newspaper in her hand, next to Will at the dining table. It wasn't until Rachel stomped on the hard wooden floors that she caught their attention. As loudly as possible, she slammed all three things on the table in front of the ginger's face.

"Thank you," she told Rachel, trying to keep the peace in the room. At this point, it was a foreign subject to her.

"Whatever pleases you," She sighed, ripping open the fridge. As fast as she could, she pulled a blood bag out and spit the cap across the room. Within seconds, it was gone and she was going in for another.

A gentle hand, then, found its way to her shoulder, causing her to jump. It was Will. He took the empty bag from her hands and looked at her with a look of concern. She then felt the circles being rubbed on her back. "Show some restraint."

She clumsily backed away from him, running into the island in the center of the kitchen.

"This isn't fair," she hissed.

"I'm only looking out for you," Emma intervened. "You'll see it someday."

"That's out of the question," Rachel told the woman. Will decided to step between the two before things got uglier.

"Okay, Rachel, the car is ready. How about you drive to school today?" he asked. "The others will get in with Elliot."

She surrendered. Grabbing her bag, she took the keys in his hands and fled the place as quickly as possible. School didn't start for another hour, so she had some time to herself. With this being said, she was the first car in the parking lot of school. She used this time to collect herself.

She knew she was being ridiculous. It was a stupid, electrical device. But, it was also her key to life. It kept her from being able to hear the whispers of the others around her. It helped distract her from the mind-consuming smell that pushed her every sense throughout the day. Her heart dropped at the thought of free time at lunch. She didn't have a group of friends to find and associate with, and her family was the last group of people she wanted to see at the moment.

Sighing, she silenced her brain. Turning to the radio, she decided that she'd take every advantage she could. After the fit she threw this morning, she didn't know when things would return to normal. Reaching into the glove compartment, she rummaged through the multiple DVDs piled up.

After selecting one, "The River Flows in You" by Yiruma filled the small space of her car. Resting the seat back, she closed her eyelids and tried to catch up on the sleep she'd missed out on last night.

She was rudely awoken by a loud pounding on the window beside her. Shooting up, it was a student. He was running toward the school with papers hanging out of his book bag, in unison with many others. Looking at the clock on the radio, her heart dropped just about three spaces below her toes. The school bell rang five minutes ago and the tardy bell was five minutes away. She had five minutes to get to her first class; all the way across campus, not to mention. Since there were so many people around her, vamp speed was not an option.

Just as she made the corner, the bell caught her.

"You're late," Mrs. Bankston reminded her as if she didn't already know. "I'm going to have to give you a slip, Ms. Berry."

"No, I'm perfectly on time." She whispered, staring the woman dead in the eyes. Snapping out of it, the woman payed her no mind and turned to the rest of the class.

"Okay, start lesson 7 on your laptops." Watching the woman return to her desk, she didn't even notice the blonde on the side of her. Instead of the normal cheerleading uniform the girl usually sported, she wore a purple sweater today; trying to hide the baby bump, if Rachel had to guess.

"How did you do that?" she wondered, leaning closer to her side.

"Magic," Rachel used her fingers to apply a sarcastic emphasis on the word.

The girl only rolled her eyes, returning to her work.

The rest of the day went by as slowly as any other. She did her work, presented her arguments, and dozed off time and time again. Then, it came time for the moment she was dreading since this morning, lunch break.

The room was crowded. She examined it as she held her tray of food in her hands. The faces were now familiar to her, but names weren't. She was still a stranger to most of these people. That, however, did not stop them from pausing what they were doing to look at her stance. Her lack of an escape only worsened the matter.

That was when she found an empty table. She nearly tripped over her own feet trying to hurry before anyone else were to stake their claim. That was where she remained for about ten minutes. With the latest English assignment in her right hand, she forked her food with the left. It took an extra amount of confidence today to get every bite down her throat. Her forks harshened every time she heard the whispers behind her back.

Soon enough, most of the food before her was gone. There was nothing else to unleash her anger into. So, she aimed for the Styrofoam of the plate. By the time she'd thrown in the towel to this method, it looked as if she were playing tic-tac-toe with herself.

It wasn't until the slamming of a lunch plate across from her own pulled her focus. Looking up, he was smiling down at her. Innocence, it seemed to be, spread across his face. It was as if he'd done no wrong. She didn't quit recall him asking for permission before plopping down on the seat opposite to hers. She knew he wouldn't have, anyways.

"That seat's taken," she looked down at her book when she said this.

"Right," he replied, digging through his bag for something. "With all of your friends crowding around us, there's totally no more room for me."

She laughed when one of her untouched grapes bounced off his freckled nose.

"Ouch," he rubbed it, as if she had punched him. He wouldn't be so lucky, she thought.

"That was for being an ass," she stated matter-of-factly.

"If that were the case, I'd have a grape thrown at me every two seconds," he replied.

"I can actually have that arranged, believe it or not," she finally faced him.

He clapped his hands, chuckling as if what she said was the funniest thing known to man. He became serious, watching her face.

"Oh come on," he smiled. "I'm not that bad."

"You're not," she agreed, shaking her head. "I just really have a sudden liking to throwing grapes at your face." Another one bounced off of his forehead this time.

He didn't speak. Instead, he laughed like a child, somehow sending something through Rachel. Her fear of sticking out wasn't even a memory anymore. Her sour mood had been erased. She couldn't understand it. For someone who hated the human race so much, why were things so easy with this one, in particular?

That was when she noticed the first pair of eyes on them. Turning her head, she then caught two; three. In looking around, it suddenly got to the point where it was rare that someone wasn't looking in her direction.

They were judging, she easily understood; just as every other populations of high school students have for as long as she could remember. This time, however, it was different. This time she didn't have what she needed to drown them out. That's when the whispers began. She placed a firm, death-grip around the edge of the seat as she listened to people wonder how he was sitting with trash like her.

He noticed her unease. "I'm totally embarrassing you, aren't I?" he asked. She couldn't understand how he didn't see it. She kept her focus on the empty plate in front of her.

"I think it's the other way around," she whispered.

"Huh?" he asked after taking a huge bite out of his burger. He followed her gaze. When Finn met their faces, everyone instantly returned to their own business. He turned to look back at her.

"They're jealous," he nodded confidently, proposing his theory.

"Jealous," Rachel repeated as if it were ridiculous. Somehow, it really did sound that way, "Of whom?"

"You, of course." He smirked, reaching for a handful of fries. She pretended not to be completely grossed out by his lack of table manners.

"Why would anyone be jealous of me?" she wondered.

"You get to be friends with the one and only." He smiled watching her lean in, "Me."

She scoffed, trying to hide the smile creeping onto her lips. Grabbing another grape, this one hit him between the eyebrows.

"Don't worry about them, Rachel." He grabbed her hand. She didn't miss how he flinched at the cold when they met. He let it fly right over his head after that. "They're all a bunch of cowards. They think that isolation is the key to feeling better about their own selves. They're all wrong."

"Why does that sound so convincing?" Rachel raised an eyebrow, taking in the sudden sorrow in his glance.

"Let's just say that I wasn't always the quarterback of the football team," he nodded. She looked over him for a few more seconds. Then, he shook it off and changed the subject.

"So, good news, I got a new car." He was extremely proud in saying this. Maybe she was too in listening to his news; for him, of course.

"Your parents must love you," she chuckled. "It hasn't even been a week."

"Get a look at this beauty." He grinned, shoving his cell phone in front of her face. A jet black Mercedes Benz, she observed. It seemed to be the newest make, with shiny windows, and silver rims on the tires.

"Wow, I stand by what I just said." She laughed, offering her input. She knew that that's what he was waiting for.

"My foster mom got a raise." He informed her. Her head spun for a second. He never mentioned that he was in a foster home before. Then, she remembered that she hadn't actually put in the effort to ask him questions like that. "Apparently your mother is very generous with the hospital."

"I wish that were the case for me," she mumbled.

"Did I not see a yellow Ferrari in the parking lot this morning?" he smirked, calling her out.

"Ha-ha," she rolled her eyes. "Emma took away my phone this morning."

She didn't expect him to laugh. "You're not being serious, are you?"

"Yes, actually," she replied in defense. However, she knew that he was right. She was being ridiculous. "It helps me with my social anxiety and all."

"You seem to be doing pretty good to me," he argued.

"I've been here for three weeks and you're my only friend," she reminded him, becoming even more worked up. "I punched Olivia in the face this morning because she said something about my outfit."

"Maybe she was right," he winked, moving to look over what she was wearing. "I'm pretty sure pink skull crossbones haven't been in style since Avril Lavigne dropped them."

"You know what, Finn?" he looked prepared for her backlash. "I can always go ask the cafeteria lady for more grapes."

"Martha wouldn't do that to me," he shook his head. She kind of saw that coming.

"Wow, you're a total Ken, you know that?"

"I'm sorry?" he seemed confused. Her analogies sometimes did that to people.

"You know, Mr. Perfect; can do no wrong, 4.0 GPA, quarterback, girls swooning for miles, knows the first names of the entire high school staff. You're Barbie's Ken." She chuckled.

He leaned closer to her, "If I'm Ken then who's Barbie?" He winked with a challenging grin.

Even if all fingers were pointing to her in that moment, she still looked around the cafeteria for his amusement. Suddenly, she spotted her.

"Her," she said, referring to the blonde in the purple sweater, sitting all the way across the table with her cheerleader friends. "I'm assuming she's your type."

His face turned sour then. "Well, you assumed wrong."

His harsh tone took her off-guard. Was she rubbing off? "Is there a history there?" Common sense may have been her only resort then.

"That's a story for a different time," at least his voice was softer now. She knew she'd pushed some sort of button within him.

"What'd you do, anyways?" he asked to change the subject. She tried to remember what he was talking about. He picked up her confusion. "What caused Emma to take away your cell phone?"

 _I snuck out in the middle of the night and fell asleep in a tree._ She could only imagine the face she'd get from him if she told him the truth. So, she resorted to what she did best. She lied to him.

"I punched Olivia in the face," it sounded pretty believable. It was true, after all.

He laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "And, I was going to ask for your number."

"Really?" she sounded more surprised than she wanted to.

"Believe it or not, Rachel; you're actually a really fun person to talk to you." "You leave me no choice."

"What do you mean?" Why was anticipation building in her chest?

"I'm driving you to school from now on." It wasn't a question. Taking the napkin that came with lunch and a pen he pulled out of his bag, he wrote down his number and slid it forward.

"What?" she asked, incredulously, as she shoved it in her bag. "No way, you're not going out of your way for me. You live 10 minutes across town."

"How do you know where I live?" he furrowed his brows, seeming to forget that she brought him home that one morning after he stayed in her guest bedroom. "Right," he nodded, "I forgot, I'm sorry."

"You're not driving me, Finn."

"Yes, I am," he pushed. "We shook on it. That's some pretty serious stuff. No going back."

The bell rang then, before she could say anything else. She guessed they'd lost track of time. How was that? Getting up, they emptied their trays in unison, with Finn stealing her last grape. She rolled her eyes, watching him obnoxiously chew on the small fruit before her. He only winked.

When they entered Mr. Tanner's classroom, he was quick to steal the seat before hers. To her luck, the teacher wasn't in and the substitute handed out a group assignment.

"Work in pairs and stay silent," she commanded. Her voice seemed to be rougher than the arch of her drawn-on eyebrows.

Finn turned around then, despite all of the calls for his name from across the room. "Great minds think alike. What do you say, partner?"

The assignment was complex. Leave it to Mr. Tanner to give them something like it. They had to compose a short story on a separate sheet of paper. It could be about anything they wanted. However, it could, under no circumstances, rhyme. They'd be working on it for the two days that he was planning to be out. When he returned Monday, they'd be reciting in front of the class.

"Are you good at this?" she wondered, tapping the eraser against their merged desks, moments later.

"Exceptionally," he smiled with pride. "I went all the way to state in one of my English competitions."

She took the loose leaf sheet and pushed it before him, "Great, good luck. Let me know when you're finished and I'll revise."

"Wait, no, you have to help me," he jumped.

"Wow, I think I just witnessed your ego deflate a bit."

"Just, let's get started, okay?" he rolled his eyes.

They did okay. It took them a matter of 35 minutes to come up with something that would have the rest of their classmates dropping to their knees in awe. Maybe he was right. Great minds did think alike. The only difference; Finn was well versed with the positive side of literature. His words mimicked love, rainbows, butterflies, and unicorns. She, on the other hand, reached for the darkest points. She wanted to incorporate death, loss, and malice. And, did they clash on the issue at hand. It took twenty minutes tops just to compromise on the first sentence.

In the end, they came together on a story that suited both of their preferences. And, it was quite obvious that they were proud. She hoped Mr. Tanner would be too.

"You sure you don't prefer English over history?" Finn nudged her elbow as they returned their desks to normal around a crowd of their struggling classmates.

"More sure than anything," she replied immediately. "It would be too expected for a girl like me to love this subject the way you do."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm the tortured, sufferer-in-silence, goth girl. Wouldn't you say that I probably liked keeping to myself and reading books on my own free time if you saw me before getting to know me? History eliminates that. Plus, I know everything there is to know about it. I enjoy it."

"Well, you have a gift." He became sincere in saying this. "You're a good writer."

Her heart seemed a little warmer than the ice cold stature that she was used to. "Thanks, Finn. So are you."

"Have you ever considered what things would be like if you didn't stereotype yourself?"

Things were getting deeper than she'd initially realized. "And, by stereotype myself, you mean?" She didn't realize the anger creeping into her voice. Was he accusing?

"You base your life solely on what everyone else thinks of you." He informed her of a trait she was unaware of until now. "What do _you_ think of yourself, Rachel? That's the important question."

Before she could answer, the substitute clapped her hands together. The monotone voice had taken her off-guard from one of her own, screaming at the top of her lungs in her head right now. Who was he to ask such a question? Who was she to not have an answer to any of it?

"Okay, turn your rough drafts in. You will start your final tomorrow, hopefully."

He'd been staring at her, as if the woman's interruption was no excuse. Suddenly, she rose. Ripping the sheet of paper from before him, she joined the group of singles who made their way to the pile on the teacher's desk.

He was still staring at her when she returned. It was almost intimidating this time. To a certain extent, she became fed up. "It makes it better," she finally responded.

He seemed to be confused. Maybe she was too. "For me, that is. Blaming other people makes it easier to ignore my own demons."

"What demons?" he pushed.

Now, that was a question he wouldn't get the answer to. She wasn't even sure if she had all the answers she needed. It'd been jumbled in her head since the beginning of time. From the time she'd been forced to say goodbye to her mother in the infirmary, her demons were always something she'd struggled with on the inside. It only worsened the first time she'd taken human life.

"I get the sudden feeling that I'm in the interrogation chair." She raised an eyebrow playfully, throwing him off track. "When is it my turn?"

"Ask me anything," he held his hands up. "I'm an open book."

She took him up on that challenge. For the next two hours of the day, it was non-stop questions. She'd learned his favorite color, food, movies. He'd even opened up to her about a novel he was in the process of writing. She demanded that she read it sometime, and to her astonishment, he obliged.

They were walking to her car when the deeper question came out. "Is it later yet?" Rachel asked. It appeared to have taken him off guard. Pointing the blonde hastily walking to her car, he only looked to his feet.

That's when the icy front made its way to their atmosphere, and she wasn't talking about the weather. Finn suddenly became distant, something she hadn't experienced all day. Maybe she should've kept her mouth shut, after all.

"I should really get going," he finally broke the barrier of silence between them. "Coach B won't be too thrilled that I'm late for practice two days before the first game of the season."

She nodded slowly, instantaneously feeling the cringe run up her spine. She was embarrassed. She reached far over the line again, and this time, for some reason, his reaction to it really bothered her.

It was a first. Seeing his face fall caused her heart to do the same. She closed her eyes, wondering why she cared so much. By now, she would've been in her car, there would've never been even the slightest of a conversation, and she'd be driving away if the person and the circumstances were different. But, that was what bothered her the most.

She wondered if she still had time to resort back to her "leave me alone" phase. No, she thought. It's too late. She'd already opened up to him, in more ways than one. For some reason, to her, Finn was different than any other ordinary human being. He was slowly changing things. He was changing her. She couldn't understand why this didn't scare her.

"Right," she finally reacted to his statement, having been nodding for what seemed like a small portion of a century. If he thought she was crazy, he didn't show it. His tall, slender figure still standing before her was proof enough. "I should go too. Emma's probably waiting for me with another punishment, as if the first weren't enough."

A wave of relief ran through her, hearing his chuckle. "I'll see you tomorrow morning. Be ready for 7:30."

"You're not picking me up, Finn." She protested again.

"Have a good night," he ignored her with a smirk as he smugly walked out towards the field.

Turning the key to her home, she was more than pleased to find that she'd made it back before the others. She figured that this would allow her enough time to collect what she needed and head out towards the forest.

Walking into the kitchen, she hopped onto the counter, digging into the top cupboard. She was thrilled when her hands met the tangled mess that was her earphones. Not long after that, she found her charger, and last but not least, her phone.

Leaving the charger, she took her cell phone and earphones with her into the forest. Loud, violent rock music motivated her speed. In no time, she was hanging on the tallest branch. She had never been so accustomed to one tree before.

Almost an hour was spent out there. Then, the sky fell into twilight, and she knew that she'd have to return before Will or Emma could catch her. The others were sitting around the living room, staring at the TV with blank expressions as she snuck in through the back door. She used her speed to place her electronics back where they had been, before heading toward the stairs. They caught her.

"Rachel!" She recognized the voice as Santana's. Before she could shimmy her way out of things, the sound of the television cut off. Before long, they were all headed in her direction. "You're back."

"Yeah," she tried to smile, but then she saw their faces and knew that she hadn't been successful. "I got caught up, I'm sorry."

"No," Olivia stepped forward, the spot in which Rachel took out her jaw this morning, looking perfect and untouched. "We're not mad at you!" Cheerful as ever, Rachel grimaced. How could she be like this all of the time? "We're happy you're back."

"Thanks," she replied, slowly, as if unsure of herself. She was never ambushed like this before. "What's going on?"

"Well," Santana started, but Olivia interrupted before she could go on.

"We're having dinner guests!"

"What?" Rachel asked.

"It's Will and Emma's attempt to blending in, I guess," Santana jumped back in. Elliot and Sam remained silent in the back of the two before her. "One of the board members from the hospital and his wife are coming over dinner."

"And that concerns me, because?" Rachel asked.

"Emma asked if you could cook," Sam stepped in.

"Cook," Rachel repeated with a snicker. "What the hell does she expect me to cook? Them?"

"Spaghetti and meatballs," Olivia hopped back into the conversation, gracefully. She was already on her way back into the kitchen while saying this.

She followed the group, finding the wooden island now covered in pots, pans, bowls, and ingredients for the expected meal.

"She went shopping this morning, after you left." Olivia continued.

"We just thought that you'd have a better chance with cooking the meal," Elliot turned to Rachel.

"Why is that?" she asked.

"Because you like to read," Sam jumped in before Elliot could start again. "A cookbook shouldn't be that hard for you, right?"

"We'll help you," Santana offered, taking in Rachel's face of bewilderment.

"And Emma said she'll give you back your phone and things," Olivia added.

"So, what?" she asked the group of four. "Now, you're bribing me?"

"Do you need to be?" Elliot raised an eyebrow.

"I do this, and the coddling stops?" she pushed.

"Yes," they all agreed, simultaneously.

"Fine," she exhaled. "Go, I'll figure this out on my own." Picking up the book, she started to read over the directions. She couldn't believe that she was doing this. Reaching into the bottom drawer, she pulled out Emma's favorite apron and tied it around her waist.

It was about another hour later once she realized that she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. She panicked, seeing the clock turn to 6:00. The two would be home no later than seven, and she had no idea if the guests would be with them or if they'd come at a later time. Either way, if she didn't step up now, they'd be walking into nothing.

"I thought your parents took your phone?" the voice asked. She figured it was late enough for practice to be over. She held the napkin in one hand and her confiscated phone in the other, with a death grip, tight enough to almost crush it.

She ignored him. "So, I realized that I forgot to ask you a question this afternoon, Finn…"

He seemed pleasantly amused. This was a good sign. "Fire away."

"Do you know how to cook spaghetti and meatballs?"

* * *

 **I'm sincerely sorry that it took me so long to update, you guys! I've just returned from my senior trip and will be leaving again tomorrow. My expected date to return is around Monday of next week. I will try to update again sometime around then. Also, i noticed a lot of your confusion about Rachel/Amelia, Finn and what he is, etc. It pains me to tell you this, but i'm afraid i can not release that information yet. If i did, the entire story would be ruined. I've designed the plot as a learn more as you read kind of process. However, as confused as most of you may be, everything WILL be cleared up by the end of the story... I just don't want future chapters to be spoiled for all of you.. Hope you guys understand and enjoy! :) -Kat**


	11. Dinner Guests

**Chapter 10**

"Dude, are you moving fucking mountains in there?" the voice called, a loud banging to his door following shortly behind.

Carole's voice was then evident from wherever she was in the house, "Language, Percy!"

His mind was not aware of any of this, however. Instead, it was too crowded, trailing off on a race of its own. With sweaty palms, he sat on his floor, rummaging through clothes that did him no good.

It'd been this way since a few moments before. About the same time she'd hung up the phone, to be exact. Rachel was inviting him over to her home. Again, he would add for emphasis. He surely thought that the previous time he was over would be the last. Now, he was expected to be there to cook for her, her perfect parents, her perfect family, and dinner guests whom she wasn't too specific about. He was sure there was some sort of dress code for such an occasion.

That's what he was struggling with once Toni and Percy made themselves at home atop his bed. As with all other things, they became amused.

Toni was the first to break the silence, "hot date?" The two broke out into laughter.

Finn swore they were children in teenage bodies. "Can you guys not act ten for like 2 seconds?" he snapped.

He had no idea why he was so nervous. He wasn't even this nervous the first time he'd met Quinn's parents. This was, now, the second time seeing Will and Emma and he swore his heart was beating circles around itself. And then, he thought of Rachel and he nearly stopped functioning. Was it possible that he was becoming attached?

He didn't know why she'd called him. He wondered why she wasn't angry with him. A tinge of guilt spread through his chest, thinking of his unintentional snap this afternoon. She didn't deserve it. How could Rachel possibly know that the innocent looking blonde girl ripped his heart from his chest and ruined every notion of love he'd ever had?

"Calm down, Finncess." Percy rolled her eyes, moving to sit next to him on the floor. "What's got you all worked up?"

"Rachel asked me over to help her cook for the Schuesters." He told the two. Their faces only raised more.

"And this is the first we've heard of this, because?" Percy asked.

"Because, I didn't think I would have this problem," he sighed, pointing to the large pile of clothes on the other end of his room. "I've never had this problem. I feel like a girl contemplating her wardrobe before prom or something. Help me, please…"

"First, stand up and ditch the football shoes," Percy ordered, rising from his side.

"What-?"

"Just, trust the chick, man," He could only nod and follow instructions given.

She took him by surprise. In very haste motions, she fixed his clothes in a way he never thought was suitable for such an event. His everyday plaid flannel was now buttoned up and tucked into his jeans. A black belt wrapped around his waist to match the black tie hanging from his neck. And last, his feet now stood in a pair of black converse.

"Voila!" she smacked her lips before smirking. "You're very welcome."

"You better get going before you're late," Toni reminded the two of them, pointing to the small alarm clock by Finn's bed.

"Shit!" he lost track of time. "Thanks, you guys," he called before taking off in a sprint towards the front of the house.

"Wait," Carole called as he got to the door. Taking the light pink lilies out of a vase over the fireplace, she rushed over and handed them to him.

He opened his mouth to protest, but she beat him.

"I couldn't help but eavesdrop," she chuckled. "People have been giving the Schuester's a lot of crap lately, for being different and new to town, despite being some of the nicest people you'll ever meet. We're not going to be like everyone else, okay? I'm sure Emma will love the welcoming gift. And Rachel, well…" she looked over his appearance before she winked, causing Finn's cheeks to blush.

"We're friends," he assured her. She didn't seem convinced.

"Well, maybe you should invite your _friend_ over for dinner, sometime." She encouraged.

He only smiled before heading to his car. It took about twenty minute's time before pulling into the long, concrete driveway. His palms only became sweatier, stepping out in front of the tall, white home. It was more beautiful than he'd remembered.

"You're late," if he didn't know better, he'd have said that his feet flung from the ground in that moment. She was so short that he looked right over her head, turning around to face her.

"I'm sorry, I just got caught up with-" he stopped himself, scratching his head. She looked up, waiting for him to continue. For some reason, he couldn't.

"Here," he smiled, handing her the flowers. "This is for your m…Emma."

"Lilies?" she asked, a soft smile falling over her expression. "Look at you," she chuckled, finally taking in his somewhat formal appearance.

"I was just confused on what you expected me to wear so-"

"You look fine," she assured him with an amused chuckle. At least someone found his nervous rambling funny. "And, the flowers are beautiful. Emma's going to love them. C'mon," she motioned for him to follow her up the steps of the front porch.

He raised an eyebrow, observing her rushed chatter. "Rachel, you did tell them I was coming, right?"

"No," she admitted without a hint of remorse, "which is why we have to hurry and get things cooking before they get back with their friends."

"Are you joking?" He whispered, gently tugging at her arm as she was nearly jogging to get into the kitchen. "Rachel, I thought they knew that I was coming over. This is going to be the second time I show up uninvited."

"You're stressing for nothing. They'll be perfectly fine with it. They actually like you, Finn." She assured him, tugging him forward in return. "Besides, I invited you this time. So, there's nothing to argue over."

"How are we still friends?" he sighed with a touch of laughter after entering the warm space.

"It helps that you're annoyingly persistent." She smirked at him from across the kitchen island.

"Well, when you say it like that…"

Looking at the ingredients before him, he tried to get a hint at what he was working with. Nodding his head, he had everything figured out. "Chopping board," he demanded, like a doctor asking for a scalpel.

She watched as he directed the knife against the peppers. If he didn't know any better, it was as if she were struggling against something in her head. When she spoke, he knew that she had probably gone against her mental voice. She'd done that a lot, he noted.

"How do you do that?" she asked, watching him carefully. His swift movements clearly piqued her interests. A sense of pride settled within him, glad to be showing off.

"How do I do what; cook?"

"You make it look so easy. How do you chop so fast without getting frustrated and throwing the knife across the room?"

"Well, for one, I'm not insane." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm just frustrated," she admitted, watching him place the noodles to boil. "You're perfect at everything you do."

"That's not true," he protested, realizing reasons he couldn't quite confess to her yet. Over spaghetti and meatballs wasn't exactly the correct setting to tell someone your deepest, darkest flaws.

"Name one thing that you can't do," she challenged, crossing her arms.

"I-" He thought for a moment. He didn't mean to come up smug, but his mind really was blank.

"Exactly!" she exclaimed, throwing a carrot for the salad at him. Her obnoxious laughter radiated through his body as the vegetable nearly grazed the tip of his ear.

"Have you retired the grapes, already?"

"You've got to keep the game colorful, Hudson. It's common sense." She threw him a sinister grin.

"So is cooking," he fired back.

"Now that was low," she pointed in his direction, throwing a piece of broccoli.

They'd done it. Somehow, when the Schuester's finally came home, dinner was waiting for them. They were impressed, to say the very least. They seemed a bit surprised, as if they weren't actually expecting the teens to be able to do it. Too bad it didn't take away from the surprise of seeing Finn in their home again.

"Finn, we weren't expecting you," Emma smiled pleasantly before turning to the coat rack by the door.

"Well, when Rachel invited me I initially thought that the two of you knew that I was coming. I'm terribly sorry for the intrusion." Wow, he was no match to the beating of his heart at the moment.

"Don't be silly, son." Will was the first to approach them. "Any friend of Rachel's is a friend of ours. You're always welcomed in our home."

"Thanks, sir." He smiled, taking the hand that he was offering to shake.

"I hope you're hungry, Finn." Emma came around the corner to face them. "This is more than enough to go around. It smells delicious." Her pearly whites intimidated him as she smiled at the food before them. Hell, all of their pearly whites intimidated him. Like he said before, they were perfect.

"Well, Finn did all of the cooking, so…" Rachel awkwardly added in, sensing his state of nervousness around her parents. He showed his gratitude with a glance in her direction. She nodded.

. They froze, their faces lighting up in shock and amazement.

"He did?" Emma asked Rachel. "Finn, you didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to." He replied. "Spaghetti and meatballs is practically cake for me and anything to help you guys out…"

"Well, you're staying for dinner so we can give you our critiques at the end of the night." Finn only looked to Rachel. She observed the scene intently, with no intention to give her input. It was more than obvious to him how she shied around Will and Emma. She was much more herself when it was just the two of them. "No arguments," Will chuckled.

"Wasn't planning on it," Finn laughed when Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Would it be okay if the two of you went set up the table? Company should be here any moment, now." Emma instructed maternally.

"That sounds perfect," he nodded in agreement. "Actually, this is for you." He moved over to where Rachel placed the lilies. "It's from me and my family; a housewarming gift, if you will."

"Aww, Finn, thank you so much!" she smiled, obsessing over the flowers in her hands. "Did Rachel tell you that these were my favorite?" she winked with playful suspicion.

"Yes, actually," Finn lied to make things easier for everyone. The others came in by then, distracting the two. Rachel took this moment to drag him into the dining room with her.

As they arranged the napkins and forks, Rachel laughed to herself, moving onto the plates.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh nothing," she faced him now. "I've just never seen such a strong case of 'kiss-ass' before."

"It's called being polite, thank you very much," he replied, sarcastically.

"It's called kissing ass, "she repeated.

"Whatever you say," he only shook his head, laughing with her.

The loud sound of the doorbell broke their easy conversation. He took this as a sign to exit the room. She turned to him then. "I really have no idea who's coming over."

He only smiled, leading the way as they followed her family to the front door. When Will pulled the door open, three people stood behind it. He recognized the girl from one of his classes, but the man and the woman were strangers to him.

"C'mon in," Will told the group. "It's freezing out there."

"Something smells wonderful," the woman commented, moving forward to hug Emma. "Thanks so much for inviting us. We hope you like cherry cobbler."

The man stepped forward then, with a square glass container in his hands. Their daughter followed shortly behind. "We couldn't come without any bearings of our own. It's my mother's secret recipe."

"I'll take that from you," Santana, Rachel's brunette sister, politely stepped forward to grab the dish from the man's hands. They watched her move over to the kitchen.

"How rude of me," Emma suddenly jumped in realization. "Will, this is Mike Maddox."

Rachel's hand suddenly wrapped around his, then. When he looked at her, she didn't pay him any mind. Instead, she stared at the floor below them. Her face was expressionless, white, like she had to vomit. He noted the more he moved, the tighter she squeezed. He didn't protest.

Emma continued to speak, "…and his wife Karen and their daughter, Ashlyn…"

"It's nice to meet you all." Will nodded.

"This is my family," Emma turned to them, "Elliot, the twins Samuel and Olivia, Santana, and last but not least, Rachel. This is her friend, Finn."

"It's nice to be acquainted with you all." The man nodded.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, who's ready to eat?" Emma smiled.

The group enthusiastically moved toward the dining table. Two seats on the end seemed to be calling their names. He led the way again. Rachel seemed to be too distracted to pay any attention. Once they were seated, he looked over at her with a questioning glance. She only ignored it, turning to her utensils. He couldn't miss the tight grip she held on her fork then.

The rest of the evening went by in a bit of a blur, really. It was what was typically expected from a dinner in their home. Conversations had erupted from every corner of the room. The grownups were speaking of things like their jobs, their home, and bragging about their children. Olivia was telling Elliot about something she'd read in a magazine. To his surprise, he didn't jump into the conversation with Sam, Ashlyn, and Santana about the upcoming game this Friday.

Then, there was Rachel. As the room roared with delighted chatter and positive vibes, a thick cloud of darkness seemed to surround her as she sulked in silence. She sat on the side of him, completely still, pushing around her food with the tip of her fork. It wasn't until her name was called upon that she actually looked physically there.

"Huh?" she seemed to be coming out of some form of a trance

"Tell them about your writings and stuff," Emma encouraged. She was showing off her daughter's talents, like any normal mother would in the presence of others.

"We actually were assigned a project in English class," Finn stepped in, helping Rachel out when he sensed her discomfort. "I owe all the credit to her, actually. If it weren't for her help, we'd probably still have a blank page right now."

"Is that so?" Karen asked, impressed. "You heard that, Ashlyn? Maybe Rachel could help you with your grades."

The artificial-redhead sent Rachel a disinterested glance before returning to Sam and Santana. Rachel continued to stare at her food as she spoke to the grownups.

"I mostly just do draft work," Her struggle to socialize was present. "Nothing Bronte worthy, really…"

"You should see some of the poems we've saved over the years," Emma continued, completely ignoring the girl. "And, Olivia, her paintings belong in art museums." Unlike Rachel, Olivia smiled in appreciation of Emma's gushing.

"Is everything okay?" he whispered once the conversation picked up in a different direction.

"Yeah," she nodded her head. She wasn't fooling him, no matter how much she thought she was. Her eyes were screaming really loud with what she wasn't saying. "I'm just not used to having this many people over, that's all."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," she replied. He decided for argument's sake to just accept it.

Dessert was served shortly after, and then it came time for parting. The Maddox's said their goodbyes before exiting the home, leaving him and the glorious seven alone. Without thought, he offered his help in cleaning the table and bringing the dishes back into the kitchen. That's when Will and Emma acknowledged him. Rachel remained at the sink, scrubbing away at a glass bowl.

"I'm blown away, Finn," Will smiled, helping Emma wipe the counter. "That's my critique."

"That was really good," Emma agreed. "Thank you so much for all you've done. I can't possibly think of a way to repay you."

"Letting me hang out with Rachel is perfect enough," he replied, hearing the sound of the bowl hitting the bottom of the sink. She turned to face the three, then. "I've never really had any close friends before, besides my foster siblings. It's really nice."

"Well, we're really glad that the two of you have become such good friends. You're a good kid, Finn." Will placed a hand on his shoulder. That's when he saw the left-over cobbler dish sitting on the counter.

"You know what? Let me put this in the fridge for you guys so it doesn't go bad. That's what my mom usually does." He moved to open the door to the freezer.

"No!" Emma exclaimed, moving forward to stand in front of the door. Will and Rachel both looked like they were alert and on the tip of their toes. Was he doing something wrong?

"You've already done enough," Emma regained her previous posture, calming a bit, "Rachel, why don't you give Finn a tour of house? I'm sure he would much rather that than cleaning, am I right?"

"Um, sure," he nodded, trying to let what just happened fly over his head. It was hard, but it was manageable. He followed Rachel into the living room, looking around the large space in awe. All previous thoughts were instantly aside.

"Nice bow," he commented, looking to the furthest wall to see a wooden weapon hanging in perfect precision to all the other objects surrounding it. He couldn't imagine its age.

"You'll see in a minute that they're obsessed with antique collecting," she replied, moving forward in the room. "From the moment they brought me in, Emma has always despised pictures in a frame. She said it was too common. And, with her job, we travel a lot, so it's always been easier to keep paintings and crafts. She likes them a lot better; thinks that it makes us unique in a way."

"It does," it wasn't that hard for him to admit. He'd known they were unique from the moment they'd met, and he knew they were much better because they were.

"I'm sure you've already seen upstairs," she wondered, getting to the foot.

"I'm sure it'll be just as amazing the second time I see it," he assured her.

"Then, right this way." They climbed the stairs in unison. He felt like he was in a museum again the moment his foot hit the last step. As they walked down the long hall, he had to stop to take things into his full perspective. He then remembered that he wasn't alone this time and Rachel was watching him with amusement.

"It gets really old, trust me," she crossed her arms, moving back to where he was standing. Looking up, she took in the same painting that he was staring at; the same painting from before.

"Who did this one?" He waited for an answer he already knew. With it being night time and the chandelier being the only light provided, the painting seemed more colorful.

She shrugged a little, "Me. We all have contributions to this hallway. It's more family oriented than the living room."

He found things he didn't really pay attention to before, like the large Mardi Gras mask, the silver swords, the rusted metal carving of the sun, and the numerous amount of paintings lining on each side until the end. The vintage Roman numeral clock at the end intimidated him with every tick-tock it made.

"The mask?" he wondered, it being the closest to them. "Who's that one for?"

"Santana," she informed him, stepping forward to run her hands over the item. "It's where she's from; New Orleans. We spent some time there when I was younger. They got accustomed to the culture, Mardi Gras, if you will."

"That's really cool," that was an understatement.

"These swords are from Elliot." She moved on, leaving him behind to gawk. "They were his father's before his parents died in a fire. He was six when Emma and Will found him."

"Some of Olivia's paintings," she pointed further down. He walked slowly behind her, the scene of a ballerina propped up on her tippy-toes now enveloping his observations. The next one was of a bride and a groom, holding hands while running across a yellow meadow. They then came across a painting of a new mother, holding her newborn safely in her arms. He could tell what Olivia dreamed of.

"And these are Sam's," she told him. They came across a few shelves with some baseballs, a bat, two footballs, and a basketball. All, of which, were signed.

"Babe Ruth?" that's the first thing that caught his attention.

"Yeah, I'm not sure where he got that one from." She looked closer at it. "I think it was passed down from their grandfather or something like that." She explained further. "We've all been together for a long time, so it's kind of hard for us to discuss our past families. Most of them are dead, anyways."

"What about you?" he turned to face her.

"What about me?" She was vague, not paying him any eye contact.

"When did you join them?" he asked.

"I was nine," she started, looking to one of Olivia's paintings. "I don't really remember my family. I've been an orphan for most of my life. Will and Emma figured that one more kid wouldn't hurt. I guess they were good at looking. When I first met them, I was really surprised to see that the others were my age."

"So, you're the youngest in the family?"

"The newest," she corrected him, heading towards a door next to where they were standing. "Now, the part of the tour that I'm sure you were just dying to get to." She winked, turning the knob. Flicking on the light, Finn stepped forward. His eyes remained glued to everything that surrounded him, "My room."

There was no doubt about that. Everything hanging on the walls and surrounding him screamed her personality. "This is my own little slice of the world, the place where I feel the safest." It gave him chills to know that she trusted him enough to allow him to view it.

The room was larger than he could've imagined anyone to have. The ceiling was tall, and with all the furniture sitting around, it was still incredibly spacy; like a room you'd come across viewing a royal castle. This place came pretty damn close.

The eggplant purple on the walls complimented the dark wood below them perfectly, with a black outlining at the top. With that, came a cream colored rug, resting underneath her bed.

It was her bed that was a completely different story. He'd only ever seen anything like it in movies. It was king-sized, with a thick, black-colored wood that made up the foot, the headboard, and the canopy portion of it. Plain white Christmas lights were wrapped around the wood on top of the canopy's frame, shining down on the bed. He wondered how someone as small as her wouldn't get lost in something so big every night. Her white cotton comforter was decorated with black and white pillows, aligned in the perfect display.

Two black night stands stood on each side of it, with two lamps matching in design. The one closest to the door held a glass of water, her cell phone, a grey digital alarm clock and a box of tissues. The one closer to the window held a boom box with a closed notebook and a pen sitting before it.

On the wall behind the setup, was, quite literally, a library. Shelves ranging from the top of the wall and all the way to the floor surrounded the area. He was amazed to see not a single space on these shelves unoccupied.

"I like to read," she took in his observation.

"Yeah, I can see that. Have you read all of them?"

She nodded, "I have a lot of free time on my hands."

"I'm impressed," he commented, before returning to looking around.

The wall surrounding the door housed many paintings, pictures of cities, a large map, and numerous band posters. He recognized most of them, but there were still a few he'd never heard of. Each picture, painting, and poster seemed to be in perfect harmony with the deep purple of her walls.

Below it sat a large black desk, cluttered with papers and books. He recognized their latest history assignment and Mrs. Bankston's handwriting. In the corner of her desk, was a computer. He assumed the keyboard wasn't far. He was correct. A compartment underneath the surface pulled out to reveal it.

The wall opposite to her bed contained just about the largest dresser he'd ever laid eyes on. It contained eight drawers with silver handles, and atop was a connected mirror. On it sat what appeared to be a jewelry box, black and white chevron-designed decorations, and two white candles on purple holders that matched the walls.

On opposite sides of the dresser, there hung two separate shelves. One shelf housed various piles of CD's. On the other were various records, in the same assortment. That's when he noticed the record player toward the corner of the room, closer to the door.

There was another door, closer to her bed. He looked to her for permission. She granted it with a nod. He assumed she was taking pleasure in his fascination. Turning the knob and switching the light on, he did a double-take taking in the size of the walk-in closet.

There were rows of clothes on each side of the room. The wall closest to the door contained a rack of many shoes varying in all colors of the rainbow as well as all types of shoes. On the opposite wall, farthest from the door, sat a dresser almost the same size as the one in her room, if not a little bigger.

Stepping back into her room, he took note another door, next to her dresser, right across the room from the one he was walking out of. She already knew where he was going with this. She moved to open the door and turn on the light for him.

Finally, he found something somewhat close to normal. Her bathroom was smaller; about the same size as his kitchen. A double-sink counter met him the moment he walked in. One large mirror hung over it in accordance.

The counter cluttered with everything he could picture a normal teen girl to keep. It nearly looked the same as his would, if Percy didn't bring all of her things to her room when she was finished in it. There were brushes, combs, lotions and perfumes, makeup to go on for miles, a curling iron, a straightening iron, and much, much more. His head was spinning just trying to identify it all. Suddenly, he gave up, turning around to look further.

Behind the counter was a large shower space with a rainfall head and in the other corner of the room was a white bathtub with three legs. A tiny door in the other corner of the room led to a toilet.

"Yes, Rachel Berry uses the bathroom." She chuckled, walking closely behind him. "Are you shocked?"

"I'm just wondering how you don't get lost every day?" he laughed.

"I manage," she assured him. "It's kind of what I'm good at. The more space the better. The farther apart the walls are, the less crowded I feel."

"Wow, you really are anti-social, aren't you?" he joked as they headed back into her room.

"It's taken you this long to figure that out?" she smirked.

"I was hoping it'd change the more I came around," he sheepishly admitted, winking in her direction.

"Well, good luck with that. The last guy who tried to change me-" She stopped herself before she said too much.

That's when everything became so clear to him. Her discomfort earlier; the way she acted during dinner. He mentally slapped himself for not picking it up before.

The Maddox's. _Nathaniel Maddox_.

He shook his head clear of the thought, returning to her. He sensed her fear that he'd ask something. So, he returned to the tour. Running his hands along the side of her dresser, he turned to the furthest part of the room. There was no wall on this side. Instead, glass made up the entire portion. With the dark drapes slightly parted, a long, cushioned black bench ran along the bottom. Decorative pillows were arranged along it as well.

"So you have a window for a wall?"

"How do you think I escape without Will and Emma knowing?" she asked, pointing to the tiny lock in the center of it. He was even more stunned to know that the glass lifted like an actual window. In other words, she could lift her wall. "There's a group of vines that I can use as a ladder to get to the ground safely. It works out perfectly for me."

"I bet," he chuckled. That's when it caught his eyes. It was big, bold, and definitely more than beautiful. It was solid black with a matching bench, resting on a similar carpet to the one underneath her bed. He turned to her, thinking of something.

"Earlier, you asked me if there was something that I couldn't do." She looked at him, not really catching the point.

"I can think of one thing." He pointed to the grand piano and her face instantly lit up. "I wouldn't even know where to begin."

Moving forward, she sat on the bench and lifted the cover off of the keys. Turning around, she asked," You coming?"

Slowly, as if careful not to break anything, he sat next to her. He remembered gloating with the cooking earlier, a smirk rising to his lips. Was this her form of retaliation?

Her fingers grazed over the keys for a few moments before diving in. An indistinctive melody flooded the walls around them. Nothing like the music he knew. He'd never heard anything so beautiful in his life. He was sure, then. This was her moment of retaliation. And, she'd smoked him in the gloating department.

The keys forgotten, he only watched her as she moved to the tempo. Not even the melody changing could steal his eyes away from her face.

He saw things in a new light then. He'd never seen her this way before. She was so committed to what she was doing. It was like she felt the emotion every time her fingers hit the keys. It was like there was a story behind the music; a hidden meaning. She was extremely passionate, like never seen before. She was amazing. Was it possible to be star struck and tongue tied at the same time? If so, that's what he was feeling now.

He'd never met someone like her before, he realized. He knew that he never would. Rachel Berry was one of a kind; a short-tempered, sarcastic, and petite miracle to planet earth. She noticed him then. Her eyes on his did nothing to turn his attention back to the keys. She flashed him the biggest smile he'd ever seen on her before turning her attention back to the keys below them.

He was sure then, even if he'd only known Rachel for a few weeks now. This wasn't just some flimsy high school friendship to him anymore. This wasn't some school boy crush, either. He was done, harmlessly playing these cards for her sake. He'd felt it from the moment he watched her walk towards him in the hallways on that first day, the same way he felt it now, watching her play her heart out on the piano.

For as long as he could remember, his heart ached because he thought she was lost forever to him. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, years turned into decades, and decades turned into a new century. He thought Quinn would patch that hole, not make it bigger. For quite some time, there was no cure. Now, and back in that hallway, he discovered that there would be again. He rediscovered the hope he'd lost the moment they'd came in and took everything.

Now, he looked to Rachel and knew that his universe was in alignment again. After years of heartache, longing, and wondering what could have been, she'd returned. She was finally here with him again.

Crouching over and resting his head against his hand, he watched the love of his life work her passion to perfection. He chuckled, thinking of something.

He missed moments like this. There was a time when he thought he'd never hear her play again. And now, well, his fear ceased to exist. She turned to him again, then, sending him another smile. He returned it this time.

"So?" she asked when she'd finished.

"I'm speechless," he assured her. "That was really beautiful, Rachel. What's it called?"

"I don't know. I made it up." She admitted.

When his jaw visibly fell, she giggled.

His love, _Amelia_ , giggled. And it felt so good to hear, again, after such a long time.

* * *

 **There it is! Hope you guys enjoy! :) Send me a review, let me know what you're thinking and your reactions! -Kat**


	12. I Dream Of Nightmares

**Chapter 11**

 _Creak, creak, creak…_

 _The sound of the old rocking chair against the wood of the back deck was all that could be heard. The deep, summer heat obliterated any chance that she would not sweat today. But, she'd known this in coming out here. It was much too beautiful of a day to stay cooped up behind the walls of the plantation._

 _She'd been putting off tonight in her mind for a very long time. It wasn't because it wasn't something important. Her nerves were just withering as each day passed more slowly than the previous._

 _Tonight would be just the two of them. She'd been aware of this since he informed her about two weeks ago. He wanted to be romantic, she assumed. Or, maybe he just wanted a chance to put on a show for a little while, convince her that he could be more than a heartless, family-business junkie._

 _Either way, she couldn't shut off the fear traveling through every vein and capillary that her body possessed. For however long dinner would take, they'd be alone. There'd be no other part of the house to walk off to, like before. There would be no other person in the room to take his attention away. Worst of all, if he wanted to try something no one would be there to stop him. If he wanted to touch her, he could._

 _She silenced her brain then. Shaking her head, she tried to clear her mind of all the negativity that overthinking usually brought her. She couldn't be this way. She couldn't make assumptions. She hardly even knew the man. They'd only met a month ago._

 _She knew that she should be grateful, if anything. Every girl in town swooned at his feet and through all of that, she was the one whom he'd chosen to marry. He'd never even given her a reason to be frightened. He was pretty nice, actually._

 _It was just the intentions of tonight that gnawed at her mind. Why did it just have to be the two of them? Why couldn't his father join them like she was used to? What was he planning? Would she be okay?_

" _Ms. Berry," she dropped every remaining thought to return to reality. Looking up, her newest handmaiden watched over her sitting figure with a concerned look spread across her tired features. "I hope you don't mind if I ask if everything's alright."_

 _She was nervous, that was more than apparent. She couldn't blame her, especially with the way they were treated around here. She was new to the home, maybe only by a couple of months, but longer than she'd been here. She was 16, on the brink of 17, and she was working in the kitchen, following in her mother's footsteps. Starting off a horrible profession at such a young age, she thought. With being freed from slavery in Ohio only decades before, they definitely weren't being paid enough money to put up with the treatment they did; especially in this house. However, there weren't many other employment options. She couldn't imagine the way they must be feeling._

" _No, I don't mind," she assured her. The girl was very well educated. It was very much present in her voice. Only when she was around the men of the home was she silent and dumbed down her words, if addressed. She was a very smart girl. She appreciated this. "I'm fine, just a busy day ahead, that's all."_

" _Your water," she presented the silver tray forward. Atop sat a glass filled with clear liquid and various ice cubes._

" _It's like you read my mind," she laughed, pointing to the sweat beads forming on the sides of her cheeks._

 _It felt good against her throat, she had to admit. It also did a great deal of cooling her off. She felt physically refreshed. In a short time, she was sipping at only ice, frowning in disappointment._

" _Would you like another?" she asked._

" _No thanks, Sarah," She smiled. "I actually think it would be intelligible of me to start preparing for tonight's dinner."_

" _I'll go set up, then." She commented, turning towards the door._

" _Thanks, love." Sarah only nodded before heading back into the home._

 _She was still a little new to the lavish life that was now hers. It was obvious every time she opened the doors to the closet in her room. It felt like she was in a never ending game of dress-up. She still couldn't view the fancy wardrobe as her everyday attire. And, it only grew. Every time Nathaniel returned from his long trips, he was extremely generous._

" _The yellow one's pretty," she ran her hands against the rich material. "What do you think, Sarah?"_

" _Yes," she smiled widely, making note that she more than agreed with her, "Very beautiful, Ms. Berry."_

" _Call me Amelia, I insist." She rested a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You are, in no way, inferior to me. We're close to the same age, after all." The girl nodded again._

 _The corset did wonders to increase her fears. With every yank and tug that Sarah made with the strings, it felt as if she were being pulled further and further into reality. She clung to the dresser, watching the clock tick on and on. Free time seemed to be withering away with the hour and before she knew it, it was time to head back downstairs to the dining room._

 _He was waiting for her towards the other end of the table. This wasn't really a surprise to her. He was standing exactly where she pictured he would. He moved forward then, his dark brown locks combed back; his tall, muscular figure hiding behind a suit she'd never seen on him before, and his cerulean blue eyes piercing into her very soul. He was a very attractive man, anyone could see that much._

" _My dear Amelia," he whispered, her breath staggering every step he took further in her direction. His view over her appearance screamed his sexual desire. This made her more nervous than she was before. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on."_

 _She was still getting the hang of etiquette and mannerisms of the rich. With that being said, it took him bending forward to remind her that she was expected to curtsy. Taking her hand in his, he placed a wet kiss against her knuckle. She sighed internally, not knowing whether to be flattered or to cringe with disgust. She substituted her inward confusion with a well-composed smile._

 _He walked forward then, pulling out a chair for her. With the dining table being long enough to fit 12 seats, she somehow wasn't surprised when he resorted to the side closest to them. After she was comfortably seated, she watched him scurry to the opposite side._

 _Once seated across from her, she raised her body in such an upright position, extremely uncomfortable to her. Her legs pressed so hard against each other as well. Like a true lady, one would say. How long would this dinner be again?_

 _Despite her concerns, he remained a true gentleman throughout. She'd even become somewhat smitten, if she were being honest. He was charming, that much wasn't hard to tell. He made the night about her, never paying too much attention to his own self. She even remembered her heart fluttering, the way his accent flowed like honey against her name._

 _It was when the alcohol was served with dessert that things started to change. Somehow, he'd become intoxicated within the time it took her to eat her slice of chocolate cake. She was trying to help Nadine, one of the kitchen maids, clear off the table from her seat when the deafening silence was broken._

" _Leave us," he ordered the woman in a menacing tone. She nodded before exiting, leaving Amelia fearing for her well-being. They were alone, again. The only difference, his glance appeared to be different. The lightness in his orbs suddenly turned grey. She was no longer the center of his highly acclaimed world. Now, he looked at her as if she were a portion of dessert. Lust replaced love._

 _She instantly regretted choosing the dress with this much cleavage. She maneuvered her arms, trying to hide the showing skin. It was unsuccessful, however. No way she moved could make her feel more secure under his uncomfortable gaze._

" _I think now that dinner is complete we should take a moment to consider pressing issues." He began._

" _Issues?" she was confused. Was she doing something wrong? She didn't think she was._

" _Uncertainties, more so." He corrected himself so she would better understand. "There are tons of uncertainties when I think of what I want for our future. That's the reason I asked you to dinner tonight. I know that you're still getting settled and it may be a bit scary for you to jump into these types of things so fast. But, I feel as if you're becoming accustomed to your surroundings more quickly than we've anticipated. You're a natural, Amelia."_

 _He got up, then. Stumbling over to her, Rachel sat up further; prepared for defense if she had to. Reaching into his front pocket, he pulled out a small object. Grabbing her hand, he slid the ring onto her finger. "Father gave me permission and I just couldn't wait any longer."_

 _It was more beautiful than anything she'd ever seen before. Maybe it was a little too flashy for her tastes, but it was all-the-while beautiful. The diamond engraved into the golden band stared up at her, making her feel a bit unworthy in its presence. It was then that she'd felt what she'd never seemed to grasp before. Her social rank, from a poor peasant girl to an entitled beauty, soared. She was uncomfortable at how big her head was at the moment._

 _He knelt before her, with two arms on her knees. He seemed to enjoy her reaction. "It belonged to my mother."_

" _It's beautiful," she thought aloud._

" _This is the reason I asked for your presence tonight," he ignored her, returning to his seat across from hers. "This is where your head should belong now," he told her, motioning his arm between the two of them. "You're no longer a child, Amelia."_

" _I-I know that," she replied, turning back to him._

" _I've decided to inform you on what I've decided." He nodded then, moving along with the conversation she'd been anticipating since the moment she'd arrived. Procrastination was out the window, where she wished she could be right about now. "I didn't think what my father suggested was a good idea. Things will go a lot smoothly if I don't keep you in the dark."_

" _What are you suggesting? What have you decided?"_

" _Our future, of course." He replied, nonchalantly._

" _And, I don't have a say in any of it?" she wondered for herself._

" _Why would you?" he merely seemed confused._

 _A wave of nausea found its way to her stomach then. This was what she feared. This was the "you're my puppet" conversation._

" _Our wedding date is to be set sometime within the next few months." He informed her. "Catering shouldn't be much of an issue."_

" _I thought you said that we'd wait before jumping in right away." She couldn't believe what he was telling her. Had he lied to persuade her decision about him?_

" _Things are different now," he took her hands in his. He was trying to convince her of something. She wasn't quite sure what this something was. "I've met you and I've fallen deeply in love with you. I want to be your husband, Amelia."_

" _I understand that, and I appreciate it, of course. But, don't you think this is all just a little overwhelming? I mean, you're calling all of the shots for our future together."_

" _What ideas do you have?" he challenged._

" _I don't know," she stumbled. "I thought we'd wait until sometime next year."_

" _Now, that's absurd." He laughed. "We'd be so behind. All that time could be used productively, having children."_

" _Pardon?"_

" _I want a lot of children as soon as possible. I thought I was clear on that. We're to be married within the next few months or so, and then a month after you are to be pregnant."_

" _Now who's being absurd?" she asked, her voice rising due to the fear bubbling in his chest. She thought she had more time. "I'm only seventeen."_

" _So are many other girls in town," he reminded her, "Other girls, whom, are already married and mothers."_

" _I'm not like other girls," she didn't know she was rolling her eyes until he dropped his fork on the plate._

" _Of course you're not," he growled. "You're stubborn with an attitude. I'm curious, do you know what happens to those types of girls around here?"_

 _She waited for him to continue, not daring to speak any further. The air suddenly turned ominous and she could foreshadow her own doom._

 _Slamming his fists against the table, he stood, swiped all remaining table wear to the floor to shatter, and reached across. Two firm grasps were around the collar of her dress then, yanking her forward._

 _It was then that they were face to face. She closed her eyes in terror, taking in nothing but the scent of bourbon on his breath. Opening her eyes again, those blue orbs were drilling right through her. His face was tomato red and his grip only tightened._

 _He opened his mouth then, speaking through clenched teeth. That's when she felt the wetness of two single tears trickling down her cheeks. This was the first time he'd done anything like this. She felt like an ant, shriveling below a magnifying glass._

" _You don't want to find out." She was being pushed then. The moment his hands left her dress, she was stumbling backwards. The force against her chair caused it to tip over, with her on top of it. The blunt force was brutal against her tail bone, but somehow she couldn't let that bother her now. Instead, she curled over on the floor, trying to shield her body from any more harm he would present to it._

 _He made no move to. Instead, he sent her a disgusted glance. His exit was noted the moment the loud slam met her ears. A chorus followed then; alarmed voices calling her last name,"Ms. Berry!"_

" _Are you alright, Ms. Berry?"_

" _I'm fine," she replied, a little shakier than she would've liked. "I'm fine," she repeated for clarification._

 _A group of gentle hands met her arms. They sat her up, examining for any signs of harm. She knew they'd be punished severely if they were caught tending to her. But, she didn't care. She allowed Nadine to take her into her embrace. The woman rocked her back and forth as the others began to clean the mess surrounding them._

 _She watched through tear-filled-eyes as one of the younger girls accidently cut her finger on one of the many shards. She only huffed in disappointment, sinking her face back into the woman's warm shoulder of support. "I'm so sorry," she cried._

 _She repeated over and over again as she sobbed, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. It's my fault. I'm so, so sorry."_

" _Rachel," the woman's voice called. She turned in confusion. That wasn't her name. "Rachel!" the voice became louder._

She jolted upwards, meeting Emma's tight grasp in the process. Santana and Olivia were on both sides of her. Emma at the foot, cooing into her ears as she rocked her back and forth in her embrace. "Shh, shh, it's okay. It was just a dream," she whispered. She was panting, with sweat sticking her clothes to her body. It wasn't until she reached up to wipe her face that she noticed she'd been crying.

Muddled, she whipped her head around the get a hint at her surroundings. Relief pooled into her chest the moment she observed the various rock band posters on her wall. Looking over her shoulder, her alarm clock read 4:17 am. She sighed.

"Will you tell us what it was about this time?" Olivia asked, on-guard for if Rachel were to snap.

Although her night terrors seemed to have subsided lately, this was a common thing for her. From the moment she'd chosen the world of the dead, she'd experienced these episodes. PTSD, maybe…The last one occurred just days after moving back. Now, sitting up surrounded by the three, she sighed knowing that it'd happened again. The dream that she'd had two nights ago was a cake walk compared to this one.

They were used to it. This explained the over-concerned looks on all of droopy faces. They didn't know exactly what the dreams were of. However, they always predicted that it had something to do with the figments of her hidden past. She'd refused to let them in on the fact that her screaming matches were triggered by the constancy of _him_ in her brain and their many memories together.

This one felt more vivid than the others. She noted that the moment she'd felt her heart trembling, even after being awoken. The smell of his liquored breath against her face; the feeling of the ring working its way up her finger; the pain trailing up her back the moment she'd been tossed backwards and against her chair… She suddenly reached a shaky hand behind her back. Running it up and down in the spot of the previous aching, a sigh of relief left her mouth, feeling nothing.

This wasn't even the worst of them, she thought. This memory, in particular, was only when things had just begun. There was definitely more where it came from.

Her stomach rumbled as a wave of nausea rolled through. This was how it was. She'd accepted that a long time ago. There were no precautions to take, no therapists or doctors to see, no one to help her. Time wasn't on her side. It wouldn't heal her broken wounds. She was stuck like this. Nothing would ever change.

"I need blood," she cleared her mind of the negativity, focusing on the present.

That's all it took for Olivia to zoom downstairs and return seconds later with a cold bag in her hands. As usual, she ripped the cap off with her teeth and drained the fluid within the matter of a second. She breathed in satisfaction, feeling the dark red liquid streak down her lip.

She'd previously thought that this made her look like a monster. Now, no thought was drawn to that ideal. This time, she felt good. Folding the bag over, she handed it to Emma, sitting more upright in the bed.

"I need more," she looked to the girls. It didn't take long for the wariness to fill all of their faces. Emma then shook her head.

"You've had plenty enough," she informed her.

"But I need more," her grip was tighter on the ginger's arms than she'd initially intended.

"You don't want to overstep your boundaries," she reminded her. "Remember what we said about restraint?"

"Ugh," she jumped up then, chucking the remote to her boom box across the room. It collided with her wall, crumbling into tiny pieces. They watched her, eyes wide with terror. She knew they didn't want this for. She knew they were simply trying to be there. She knew they wanted the best. If she were different, maybe she could come to appreciate it, appreciate them. But, this was who she was. This was how she was. Screwed up, twisted; broken. They would never be able to understand.

Her knees buckled beneath her. Emma's arms were there to break her fall. The woman placed a firm grip around her. Running her hands through her tangled hair, she held her close. This only made her reminisce of being in Nadine's arms during that horrid time, elevating her hysteria. Her sobs turned into dry heaving.

Olivia was beside her, then. In the gentlest of motions, she reached for Rachel's palm. Opening it, she placed the silver chained bracelet in the center. She then guided Rachel's hands to wrap around it, smiling sincerely, pushing it closer to Rachel's chest.

In that moment, he was there with them. On the floor, surrounded by Emma, Santana, and Olivia, her father rested a loving hand against her shoulder. His calm eyes filled her with assurance. His warm, sincere smile sent a wave of sunshine through her. Within an instant, she felt at ease. Closing her eyes, she rested her chin against Emma's shoulder. "Papa," she whispered.

They allowed her a few moments to herself, looking down at the bracelet from her father. Then, Emma spoke again, pulling away from the embrace she'd forgotten she was in. "Why don't you get an early start on your day?" she asked, rising from the floor. "We all will. Have a nice warm shower, and I'll make you a hot cup of coffee. I'm sure that will soothe things."

She nodded without a thought of protest. She was distracted by the ghost standing behind her. He held out his hand for her to take. She so desperately wanted to, but she knew that she couldn't. Not if she wanted to remain sane in front of the three. Calling out "Papa," was already pushing it enough.

"Here," she handed her the electronics that she'd been deprived of for two days now. "Maybe this will help you."

It did; the loud music mixed with the scolding temperature of the water falling against her back produced some sort of relief. Her mind was still running free, that was evident. This, however, gave her a better grip at things. She used every minute up, wisely.

It was when she'd wrapped herself up in a towel that she'd discovered today's mood. The ominous, grey clouds hung low in the sky covering up the moon and the trees swung with a wind that Rachel could only imagine as icy. Checking her phone, she was correct. The temperature icon read 18 degrees Fahrenheit.

This did nothing to affect her feelings, however. Instead of any sort of input towards her surroundings, she felt nothing. Numb, if you will. That seemed like the best adjective to use. Moving back into the bathroom, she trained her vacant eyes over her figure in the mirror.

Her hair was soaking wet. In desperate need of its normal brushing, the tangled ends morphed into various little ringlets. She decided to ignore it. Pulling a rubber band off the counter, she tied it back into a careless ponytail.

No more effort was put into her appearance after that. The dark circles underneath her eyes screamed that much. She dressed quickly, in a hurry to get to something she wasn't quite sure of yet. Maybe she just wanted to escape the walls of her room. She threw on a dark blue pair of jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt, her parka, and her black combat boots before zooming down the stairs.

She took her promised cup of coffee with a remote glance towards Emma's hopeful expression. She appeared exhausted, still in her pajamas, standing by the island. The kitchen's TV was on the early morning news, but they paid it no attention.

"Thanks, "Rachel offered, not wanting to completely ignore the woman. She nodded in her direction, moving over to the counter to pull a stool back. Rachel took it, focusing her gaze on the swirling of the dark liquid below her. One sip was all it took to do more than words could explain.

Olivia and Santana accompanied them then, fully dressed. Rachel was a bit surprised at this notion. She figured they would have went back to sleep. They were dedicated, that much was evident.

They sat completely silent for however long it took her to complete her first cup. She was pushing the glass forward after that. No questions asked; Emma made her way back to the pot. This made an amazing substitution for the dark red liquid she was demanding more of hours before. Now, with the second first sip of the cup, she fell into the relaxation. The cravings were still there, but more subsided with the warmth of the coffee flowing through her icy cold veins.

It was this way until daylight broke and the boys started to come downstairs. Elliot was the first. At around 5:15 his sleep swollen eyes widened in shock, taking in all four girls fully dressed and staring back at him. If she weren't so down, she would've laughed with them. Sam followed shortly behind. Then, Will made the final entrance, waltzing in and taking Emma in his arms and planting a good morning kiss on her lips.

Watching them, Rachel cringed with envy, wondering what she'd done to the universe for it to rob her of something like this, a love so true and pure. No sense of malice or even anger was present in Will's sleep-stricken face. He looked down at Emma like she was the key to everything; the axis on which he spun.

She had to look away before her dream came back into her memory. The blood from the table at which the others were eating tempted her further. That was all it took to return to the crowded walls of her room. To her surprise, everyone was too wrapped up in themselves to notice her exit. She was extra appreciative.

Locking the bathroom door behind her, she perched herself on the closed toilet seat. She thought for a moment, trying to conjure up something that would help her get through the day. Maybe just one goal; just set one goal for today and you won't kill anyone. She came up blank.

She had no idea how she would be able to explain her behavior. All she knew was that it was there and it wouldn't go away. She didn't want to see anyone. She didn't want to talk with anyone. For the entire day, she just wanted the world to leave her alone. Maybe if she'd make that point really clear, it wouldn't be too much to ask for.

When it came time for school, Will and Emma allowed her to take the car by her lonesome again. She was surprised at their trust. Unsupervised, she could take the car to any other place that wasn't school and they would never know about it. She wouldn't do that to them. She enjoyed having her phone back, as a barrier to the outside world. She wouldn't be able to do today if that weren't the case.

Her heart dropped when realization settled. He was waiting for her, his car parked just a few over. Today was Friday, which meant tonight was the big game. That's all he'd want to tell her about, no doubt. She couldn't ignore the guilt. However, she'd already made her mind up.

With the least bit attention drawn to herself, she locked the doors and slid her seat all the way down. Pulling her hood over her head, she blared the music, drowning out the knocking at her window. It took him about five minutes to realize that nothing would give. The moment he did, she couldn't miss the face he'd made. Grabbing his bag from the side of her car, he caught up to a group of his friends.

This time, it wasn't an accident. This time, there was no sleeping involved. From the leather seats of her Ferrari, she patiently waited for the bell to ring. When it did, she was in no hurry to get to class.

Mrs. Bankston was waiting for her with a tardy slip once she'd arrived. In front of the whole class, the woman called her out. She'd only been in school for a matter of months and she was already considered a juvenile delinquent who had no state of mind for the future of herself and the others around. She only looked to her boots, hearing the laughter of some of the teens behind, as the woman continued to scold.

She let it happen. Instead of using her "magic", she allowed the woman to lead her out of the classroom. In fact, she praised the walk of shame to the principal's office. The two unoccupied, waiting chairs in the vacant hallway seemed like a form of heaven to her. Resting her head against the glass window looking into the assistant's office, she used this time to gather whatever sanity she had left.

About halfway through, the assistant was standing before her, motioning for Rachel to follow her. It was like any teenage movie she'd ever seen. Principal Figgins was out for the week, so Mrs. Chang was waiting calmly for her, sitting behind the desk. The smothering room greeted her, making her more aware of her impending conviction. She wondered what punishment she'd be receiving today.

Coffee; the strong smell of coffee interrupted the loud swoosh of blood flowing through this woman's veins. She took a sip before carrying on. When she looked her in the eyes, she took this as a cue to hand her the slip.

She started, "You want to tell me what this is about?"

"You can read, can't you?" she sighed, knowing she'd stepped over the line, "I'm sorry."

Mrs. Chang's face softened a bit, giving Rachel the green light. "I guess adaptation isn't going as well as they'd hoped for me. I'm still having a little trouble, as you can see."

At least she tried to justify herself. Taking in Mrs. Chang's face after then persuaded her to believe that things were turning out in her favor. She continued for her own sake.

"I tried talking to Will and Emma about it, but they just don't get it. We do it so much; pack up and leave everything behind. I'm struggling." She felt no sense of remorse as the lies flowed off her tongue.

"I'll tell you what," the woman tapped her long fingernails against the dark, wooden desk. "I'll let this one slide, okay? But, just, try and be on time for class okay? You're a brilliant girl, Rachel. I'm sure you'll figure it all out. And, remember, we have counselors if you need any help with anything. Don't be afraid to go see them."

She waited for the woman to stand before making a move for the door. She slightly smiled, nodding before heading back in the direction of Mrs. Bankston's classroom. The thought of bailing crossed her mind as she got to the door.

There were so many positive things to go along with that thought. There would be no teens to laugh and whisper about her as she headed back to her chair. There would be no brooding stare from Mrs. Bankston. And, Finn wouldn't be able to stalk behind her after class, demanding to know what was up. Really, it was a win-win situation.

Suddenly, the door before her swung open. Another student stood in front of her. With a bathroom pass in his hands, he looked down at her, confused. Hell, she herself was wondering why she was standing there. She couldn't blame him.

Mrs. Bankston stood behind him then. With both hands on her hips, it was obvious that the woman would be giving her another public display, "Welcome back."

"Thanks," she mumbled under her breath, stepping into the classroom.

"Have a seat. I'm sure one of your neighbor classmates will be willing to catch you up on the work you've missed."

She nodded, seeming to be making the noisiest trip back to her desk. Someone stuck out their foot in the middle of her walk. However, instead of a humiliating trip for herself, she used her supernatural agility. Disappointment was an understatement describing the boy's face as she stepped over it.

Since none of her "neighboring classmates" were exactly the friendliest, she spent the rest of the hour trying to catch herself up on all of the work that she'd missed. It wasn't exactly hard since it was an online course. She'd received her saving grace only after the bell had rung.

She launched out of that classroom knowing that Finn would be right on her tail. She was correct.

"Rachel!" he called. Giving in would be too easy. She kept walking.

"Rachel!" he called again. Crap, this was harder than she thought. But, she made a promise to herself earlier today. She couldn't break it. She wanted the world to leave her alone.

"Rachel," he was at her side then. She jumped, shocked. Either she'd been dodging him entirely too slow, or he'd caught up with her, entirely too fast. "What's going on with you?"

Before he could reach out and grab her arm, she found an out. She took the sudden turn that the hallway made. He was taken completely off guard. So was she, when she figured out she'd have to find another route to her next class.

She found herself walking into the girl's restroom to make sure that he was completely gone. She was surrounded by girls popping in and out, but she paid them no mind. She only looked over herself in the mirror like she did this morning.

Ignoring him was harder than she'd initially thought it to be. She didn't like the feeling she had in her chest now; the feeling she got after realizing that she was probably freaking him out with her mood swings.

He just couldn't see her today. Not like this. She didn't want to unleash that part of herself on him. It would tarnish her reputation in his mind and that was the last thing she wanted. Finn was a really good friend. He distracted her from her own self and to lose that and have to start all over… Well, she wouldn't think of that.

It was officially decided then. At lunch, she was bailing. They'd just have to understand it; Will and Emma. They could give her at least one sick day, right? She'd been doing this for some 100 years or so. And as for Mrs. Chang...quite frankly, she could give a rat's ass.

She spent the next few hours planning her escape. It was perfect. She would scan the hallways clear of any teachers or administrators who might catch her. Any distractions and she'd just compel them. It was the story she'd be selling everyone else that she was still struggling with. Maybe she'd blame it on the visions and Emma might understand?

The bell rang then, pulling her out of her thoughts. Like before, she bolted; only this time, maybe a little quicker. Things were going smoothly. The hallways were clear of any and all teachers. No one was suspecting of anything. She was so close to the finish line. Then, when she thought the prize was hers to win, he called her name out again.

 _No_ , she cringed. "Where are you going?"

She didn't know if it was because of the gloom of the day or the adrenaline from her pending escape, but she violently whipped around, looking up at him.

"Gosh, Finn, can't you catch a hint? I don't want to talk to you!" she watched the way his face fell a little. "Or anyone, for that matter." She added. She realized that his feelings were important.

"Just, Rachel, let me in." He reached forward to grab her arm.

"Finn, let go of me," she didn't realize that she was speaking through her teeth as she compelled him.

"No," he fought against her. She sighed, wondering why her mind-tricks weren't working on him. She didn't have time to go deep into thought. She had to get out of there. She was already running behind. "I'm not letting you go until you tell me what's wrong with you."

"Everything," she nodded, trying to keep it quick and simple. "Everything is wrong with me, Finn." She looked around to spot wandering eyes. Great, they were causing a scene. Correction, she was the one causing the scene, being a little more dramatic than she'd intended. This didn't stop her. "There's just so much about me that you'll never be able to understand."

"We can go somewhere and just talk about everything." He suggested.

"It's more than a lunchtime conversation." She rejected.

"Well, at least just tell me if it was something that I did or said to you," he thought on. She immediately stopped him.

"You have nothing to do with this, okay?" she assured him. "I just really need to be alone right now."

"Will you come to the game tonight?" he looked even more worried. She knew that he'd been preparing to show off for her for the longest time. If she weren't so unsure of her feelings, she would've nodded then and there.

"I don't know," she said. "I need some time to think."

With that, she made her escape. He watched her, silently. She was in her room when everything came flooding back to her. Everything that she'd been trying so hard to bury today just came flooding back to the surface.

It wasn't until she took in her image in front of the mirror that she wondered if she were losing it. Instead of the girl she'd seen this morning, there was a different person. This person wore an elegant pink dress, with the finest of diamonds around her neck, the shiniest of jewels tied into the up-do of her hair, and _bruises_ ; many, _many_ bruises.

That's when the familiar words from the familiar voice began to come back.

" _Your screams are useless, my love."_

" _Who's going to hear you now, Amelia?"_

" _There's nothing you can do about it…"_

"Make it stop," she grabbed the sides of her head, pulling at her hair in a shaky manner. She fell to the floor, accidentally knocking over her hand mirror. "Make it stop," she whispered again, holding her legs close to her chest. She rocked back and forth, repeating the same words over again. "Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop. Shut up _, Nathaniel!"_

She needed the pain to go away.

Taking one of the shards of glass next to her on the floor, she watched her blood pool against the lines moving along on her wrists. They were healed within the second, only causing her to make new ones.

She sighed, resting her head back. The stinging hole in her chest ached a little less now.

* * *

 **This chapter contains historic tendencies from America close to the time of the Civil War... I hope the mention of house maids or anything else that i included in the dream didn't offend anyone..**


	13. Bad Decisions

**So, before you read i just want to clear up something. I had to go ahead and drag ideals from _The Vampire Diaries_ for this chapter. So, before i get into trouble, TVD is NOT mine. I DO NOT own it... Okay, enjoy! :)**

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Chapter 12

The room was crowded, but not anything out of the norm. He sat in the middle of it, taking in the familiar odor of sweaty socks, dirty jock straps, and the occasional stench of armpit; smells he'd waited months to be greeted with again.

The windows in the locker room began to darken. He knew, then, that pregame-prep was coming to a close. Within the hour, they'd be running onto the field to warm up in front of an entire stadium of people. Something was different, however. Instead of being pumped for his final, first football game of high school, his brain circled something else. Correction, _someone else_. The orbit on which his mind traveled circled around the one, the only, his love, Amelia.

Today was less than ideal, he thought. His mind wrestled him and his self-esteem all day. He wondered why that was. But, more importantly, he wondered what had happened to her to make her the way she was. It almost tore his heart at the seams. To watch her walk so quickly away, in the opposite direction, without being able to do or say anything about it was just enough to send him reeling.

About a million things had been running through his mind from that moment till now. He'd tried to silence all that had crept into it with no success. Fear, worry, confusion…They won. An endless list of questions had then been produced.

Why was she like this today? Was there something wrong with her? What was running through her mind? Would she ever open up and tell him why she suddenly decided to ignore him? Would they ever get past this? The worst, the question that nearly broke him the moment he thought of it, did she even consider them friends anymore? She swore he had nothing to do with the way she'd been. But, from experience, he knew that she was excellent at lying. Once upon a time, he'd helped her do it.

He ignored the rough slap that Mike playfully placed against his bare shoulders. Instead, her low voice from before filled his mind.

" _I just really need to be alone right now."_

" _You have nothing to do with this, okay?"_

" _There's just so much about me that you'll never be able to understand."_

" _Everything is wrong with me, Finn."_

His heart palpitated remembering a time when he'd been the one to have this conversation, when _he'd_ been the one to say these words to _her_.

 **Crystal Willow, 1862**

 _Swiftly, that's the way in which all of his motions were. Once, his bag was on the floor, hidden underneath the single wooden bed this inn provided. Now, it was on top, small fragments of his wardrobe being shoved in, one by one. Percy and Toni followed with movements just as fast._

 _It was time to go. Percy had come in, frantic, after a day's work at the local apothecary. The "believers"- a group of people in town who met to discuss the town's obvious presence of supernatural creatures- had found a new plant. The three had ridiculed them before, but now, well, his hast footsteps explained it all._

 _It wasn't just a plant that they'd found. It was something they thought that they were absolutely sure they'd never see again. It was a substance more than all three of them combined. With only three known growing places on the map of the world, its pure existence could expose them entirely. Vervain was a rare form a flower that served as a weapon to all vampires._

 _Percy had come in hyperventilating that afternoon, the pure fear in her face sending chills straight up his spine. He couldn't remember seeing that look in a very long time. He knew it must be bad._

 _They'd been emptying the tiny, apartment-like room ever since. All the while, his head had been consumed with what he was to face within the next hour. He'd already been informed that they were to be gone before night fall._

 _Something was running through him, a feeling. Was it regret? Maybe so, he thought. They were in the process of clearing the space as if they'd never existed and the only thing he could think of was her. He reprimanded himself of all that he'd done until this point. Something he promised himself long ago that he wouldn't do. Something they'd warned him not to do from the moment they'd taken him in. He'd become attached._

 _It's the something that was holding him back. As Percy and Toni moved around the room easily, he trembled, stuffing each and every article of clothing into the large, sac-like bag. The moisture in his eyes had been obstructing his vision since he'd begun._

" _It'll get easier," Percy assured him with a gentle hand to his shoulder. He never thought he'd cry again in his lifetime. But now, looking at the picture taken of her, posing in her long, dark blue dress, his cheeks were soaked. Against all protests from his inner self and the other two, he'd allowed himself to fall in love with a human._

" _We'll give you a moment," she informed him, grabbing a bag of her own. Toni moved in unison. "We'll be downstairs loading if you need anything."_

 _He only nodded, returning to the photograph in his hands. The silence in the room allowed him to face everything head on. He truly wished that it didn't. He trembled further, thinking of everything. She'd never be able to understand. She'd never be able to imagine the reason why he'd taken everything and left her behind. He couldn't fathom the thought of her blaming everything on herself and the things that she may have done to cause him to run._

 _He pulled out a piece of paper from the desk across the room after allowing himself to think for too long. He wouldn't allow her to think these things. He'd clear the air, if it were the last thing he'd do. He wanted her to know that this wasn't about her. He wanted to ensure the importance of her safety, being highly at risk every time they were together. He wanted her to know that he had to leave for himself and that if he were left with any other choice, she'd be the first person he'd run to. Last, he wanted her to know that he loved her and would, until his dying breath. He wrote two pages worth of elegant script, every word explaining exactly this._

 _That's when he heard it. Percy's voice came in through his supernatural ears, loud and clear. "No," she called. "Toni, help me…"_

" _You can't go up there," he spoke._

" _We're leaving," Percy spoke again. "It's time for us to go."_

" _Where is he?" His head shot up at the sound of her voice._

" _Amelia! You can't go up there!" Percy reminded her._

" _I don't care!" she cried. "You're both a bunch of liars! Don't stop me!"_

 _That's when he heard the loud banging of the feet traveling up the stairs. Then, with no effort at remaining silent for the others in rooms around, she busted through the fragile wooden door. Like his, her cheeks were soaked as well. She'd kept her tomato-red face composed._

" _You didn't show up to the pasture like you promised," she slammed the door behind her._

 _It was when she took in his stance by the large, packed bag that everything dropped. It didn't take long for it to curl up into the emotion she'd been trying to hide. For Nathaniel's sake, if he had to guess._

" _W-what are you doing?" she cried, stepping forward._

" _You know what I'm doing," he nearly choked, but he had to keep it together. He couldn't break down in front of her._

" _No," she whispered, shaking her head. She stepped closer, "No!"_

" _Amelia…" he couldn't continue. She closed him into the space in front of the bed now. She had been running; that much was obvious. The foot of her lavender dress was covered in dirt, her long brown hair pooled out of the up-do, and she was panting._

" _No!" she stopped shaking her head. Instead, her balled up fists fell against his chest. She began pounding with all of the might her weak form could muster. "You are not leaving me!"_

 _He allowed her to continue until she fell forward. He held her then, looking down at her, "Amelia."_

" _You promised, Finn! You promised that you would never leave me!" Her knees buckled. He caught her, placing her onto the bed. As she sat up, he knelt before her. He took her wet cheeks into his hands. Seeing her like this, it did something to him. It felt like his insides were slowly crumbling. She wiped his tears away._

" _Amelia, listen to me and listen carefully…" he instructed in a whisper. She proceeded to shake her head._

" _How can I, Finn? All you've been doing to me is lying. How can I listen to you now, while my life is falling apart?" she sobbed. He took her hands in his then, placing numerous kisses to her knuckles._

" _I have no choice," his mind was screaming at him. Every bone in his body told him that he could choose differently. However, it was his heart that was guiding his words._

" _Yes you do, Finn. You can stay with me. I love you." She sniffled. She was exhausting herself._

" _I'm choosing this because I love you." He replied. "You have nothing to do with it, okay? You're everything to me and if I could stay, you know that I would. But, it's me, Amelia. I'm no good. You'll be better off, I promise..."_

" _Don't you dare say that to me!" she huffed before slapping him across the face. He didn't move an inch. "You're the best man that I've ever met, Finn Hudson. None of these other cowards could even come close in comparison! How can you question that?"_

" _There are things about me that you wouldn't be able to understand, Amelia. There are things that you don't know, that I haven't told you."_

" _Then, tell me," she begged. "Let's just-"she stumbled over her hiccups. "Let's just go somewhere and talk things through. You can trust me!"_

" _I've never doubted that for a second, my sweet princess." He took a breath to calm himself. "It's just that you can't know."_

" _Why?" she demanded._

" _Because I don't want to be the one to ruin your life!" he sighed, turning away. He knew that his raise in voice scared her. He lowered it a bit. "I'd only be doing that if I stayed any longer. I'm a monster. It's the truth and I can't stand pretending anymore. The longer you stay with me the more corrupt you'll become. I will NOT let that happen."_

" _You'll be doing much worse if you leave me here, alone with him." She spit the last word out like it was poison. It was._

" _He won't hurt you anymore." She leaned into his shoulder. "I'll make sure of it."_

" _Just, don't, Finn." No matter how hopeless the situation became, she didn't give up. This made things harder for him. "I-Is this because of Nathaniel? Because, I know that he knows even if he won't say it. So, if you're scared of what he'll do, you shouldn't be. We can face him together."_

" _I'm not scared of Nathaniel. I'm scared of myself. I'm scared of what I'll do." He paused before bolting up, "of what I've already done! Amelia, I've been falsely influencing you!"_

" _What are you talking about?" he knew she wouldn't be able to understand. He continued anyways._

" _You see the happily ever after. The big house with the white picket fence, the dog, the big backyard, the many children, the loving husband… I've deluded you! And, I want you to have all of those things!"_

" _We can," she cried, falling to the floor to kneel with him. "It's not too late!"_

" _Yes," he closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Yes it is, Amelia. I can't give you any of those things."_

" _Then I won't have them." She was so sure of it. She was so willing to throw everything away for him. He knew he should feel gratitude that his presence meant so much to another. But now, all he felt was frustration. This was entirely too hard. He straightened his form, becoming sterner._

" _Yes, you will." He argued. "You'll meet someone someday who will give you everything."_

" _Don't you get it? Without you, there is no someday. If you're not in my life, then I don't want to live."_

" _Dammit, Amelia Berry, don't you ever say that again!" he screamed at the suggestion of killing herself._

" _It's the truth…" she admitted._

" _My decision's final," the sun was beginning to set as they spoke. Time was beginning to close. He rose and walked to the desk._

" _Take this," he held out the two sheets of paper for her to grab. "It will help you understand things more clearly when I'm gone."_

" _What makes you think I'll even read it?" she cried. "What makes you think I won't burn it the first chance I get?"_

" _I told you that I trusted you, didn't I?" he sighed. "And, I love you."_

" _It doesn't seem like it," she looked to her feet. He dropped the bag to the floor, taking her into his arms. Moving a loose strand of hair out of her face, he met her wet and swollen eyes._

" _Do me a favor when I'm gone," he whispered. "Every night, go outside and look to the sky. Look for the moon. If ever it falls from the sky, that's when I'll stop loving you."_

" _That's impossible." She wrapped her arms tight around his torso. "It won't."_

" _Well, then either will I," he smiled using his thumb to wipe her cheek. "I love you like no one has ever loved another and I promise that even though I'm leaving, I'll always be right here in your heart. I'm going to miss you forever, Amelia."_

" _We'll meet again?" she held a plea in her eyes. She needed him to say yes._

" _Yes."_

 _She closed her eyes and turned away. "Okay, go. If you leave now, it'll be easier for me. I don't want to be scarred with the memory of watching you walk away."_

 _After placing a soft kiss to her forehead, he was reaching for his bag beside her. Before long, he was downstairs, greeting the other two. They looked at him with a certain glance. He ignored it. The last thing he wanted was their pity._

" _It's time," he said, "Let's go."_

 **Present Day**

"Dude," he shook his head, returning to reality. Looking around, he was the only one not dressed yet. It was Mike's voice in his ears. "Hurry and get dressed. Coach is going to have your ass if you get caught. We go out in ten."

He did exactly as he was told. He was left with a few minutes to spare after rushing to dress. He spent this time standing close to his locker. Her picture was exactly where he'd placed it. He carried it with him, everywhere he went. Admiring it was a pre-everything ritual. He was doing exactly this when someone lightly tapped his shoulder.

It was Puck. Finn turned away for a second, shoving the picture back into his bag. Slamming the locker shut, he returned.

"What do you want?"

"Can we talk?" Like his head, his expectations were low.

"We're about to go out. My head needs to be in the game." He replied, nonchalantly.

"Please," he begged. "It'll only take a minute. I can't go to anyone else for this. You're the only one."

"Make it quick," Finn gave in, though every part of himself screamed to just walk away. Turn away from him, the same way he turned away from Finn months before when he was with his girlfriend in the backseat of his Porsche.

"Quinn's pregnant," his heart stopped beating.

"What?"

"She's having my baby, man…" he placed his face in his hands. "And, I don't know what to do. I mean, I don't even have a dad. How am I supposed to be a good one? I have no job. I live in a shit apartment. Fuck, when her parents find out, they might kill me. I don't know what to do, Finn. I don't even know if I want to do this. Please, help me."

He'd be lying if he didn't say he felt the blow. He wasn't expecting this. There was no tie to Quinn for him anymore, but still, it hurt. How could he help the guy she cheated with? He couldn't do that to his self-esteem.

"I'm sorry." With that, he walked away, leaving his former friend standing there in utter shock and embarrassment.

He chuckled a bit, realizing how stupid he was being, feeling pain in his chest. Quinn should no longer be an issue to him. She wasn't his priority anymore. Amelia had come back and reclaimed that title. What was he doing?

They got out onto the field. They gave it their all. His mind, however, was nowhere in it. By the fourth quarter, the game had turned to trash. And as the last few seconds of the timer dwindled down, he became engulfed in all of the negativities floating around his head. He couldn't understand any of it. Was Quinn really pregnant with his betrayer's baby? Would he really have to see that every time he passed them in the halls? Was Rachel really dead-set on ignoring him for reasons he couldn't conjure? Did she not want to be his friend anymore? Lastly, he thought of the universe. Did it really have to be this cruel to him?

He thought back as far as his life's events could take his memory. What wrong had he ever done to deserve this? What harm had he ever inflicted on another to receive this form of karma? As the final buzzer sounded and the opposing team roared in cheers, he stopped in place. A long list of names appeared in his mind. Names, all belonging to the people he'd hunted during his darker days, ripping them to a pulp for no reason other than his own twisted amusement. And, there it was; the answer.

He paid no attention to the long, screaming lecture coach Beiste had given them after such a bad loss. He ignored the harsh schedule of practices coming up for the following week. Instead, he tried to ignore the sound and smell of pumping blood surrounding him. He couldn't remember becoming angry. Nor could he remember clenching his fists. But now, as the walls seemed to grow closer together, he knew he had to get out of there. When they were allowed their exit, he took it without a question.

She was waiting for him this time. Her expression was different from the way Puck's had been. He seemed hopeful for a change of heart. Maybe he thought that hearing the lost cause of their situation would result in a change of heart. She, on the other hand, looked hopeless. She held her purse close to her side, walking in his direction.

"I can't do this," he held his hands out, trying to keep her at a distance. No matter how much she'd hurt him, he didn't want to kill her.

"Finn," her cry was low, familiar. It was the same tone she'd call his name with after their many fights. He flinched at the memory.

"He left me." She broke in front of him. "He told me that being a dad wasn't his thing. My parents are going to find out soon. I'll be completely alone."

"So, I just wanted to say that you win." She readjusted her purse, dropping her gaze to the concrete below them.

"Look," he sighed. "Pain isn't a competition. You made a decision. And, now you have to deal with that decision. Trying to pull me into things is completely unnecessary and irresponsible. I've moved on. Now, it's your turn."

He treaded along the path of the civilians exiting to the parking lot. Carole, Mike, and the other two agreed, in pity of tonight's loss, to meet him at home. He violently slung his bag into the trunk of the car, slamming it shut. It may have stolen the attention of a few bystanders. He was in no mood to care.

It wasn't until he got to the driver's side that panic set in. He specifically remembered locking his doors. He still couldn't get used to the loud beep that it made. He wondered if Quinn was sent to distract him while another robbed him or something along those lines.

Now, standing beside his unlocked car, he slowly climbed into the driver's seat. In the second it took him to look to the side, his heart fell beneath his toes. He wondered how he hadn't noticed before. Someone was in the passenger seat.

"Gosh, Rachel!" he held his chest. "You scared me. How'd you get into my car?"

"I picked the lock." Why was he surprised that she held no remorse in her tone?

He only looked to the steering wheel before him.

"You're crying," she observed.

"I'm allowed to, aren't I?" Okay, his anger was getting the best of him. "Or, are pissy moods only reserved for you?"

She remained silent. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Tonight's just no good."

"Because of Quinn?" she asked.

"H-how'd you know about that?" he raised an eyebrow.

"It going around school that she's pregnant. You seem to have some sort of tie to her. I assumed you'd found out."

"Well, yeah, I did. That's part of it." He nodded his head. Then, he turned to her.

"What's the other part?"

"I guess when we got out there a part of me expected you to be in the stands. And, when I couldn't find you, well," He rolled his eyes. "It's stupid, I know."

"You should know me enough, by now, to know that I'm not a stand type of girl." She replied through the darkness. He didn't know what to think. Were they good now that she was joking with him? She was being so different from this morning. He didn't say anything, despite his confusion. "You sucked horribly, by the way."

"So, you did watch." He confirmed.

"Apparently there's a little section underneath the bleachers with a good view of the field. Also, I did skip class this morning, so I thought it wouldn't be a good idea to be seen at a school event. Your foster sister, Percy, is also very welcoming." She chuckled.

"You didn't," he sighed, rubbing the space between his eyebrows. He still wasn't in the right mood to laugh with her.

"I'm in the process of coming down." She explained. "However, I'm fully aware of my surroundings; which is why I'm here. I was hoping I could speak with you."

"Sure," he replied, playing with his thumbs.

"I was struggling with some personal things this morning," she started. "I thought that shutting out everyone was the answer and that it would make me feel better. And, it did, for a little while. I went home, had my fair share of sulking. Then, I realized how badly I'd screwed things up, especially with you."

"Rachel, it's fine, really…"

"No, it's not." She argued. "You were just trying to be my friend and I lashed out like I usually do. You didn't deserve it. I really appreciate that you're here for me, Finn. No one else would've even bat an eye lash. This," she motioned between the two of them," is really important to me."

"I'm really sorry," she looked him in the eyes.

"You're forgiven," he replied, forgetting about the previous ramblings of his conscience. It was a lot easier for him now than it would've been with anyone else. "We both had our bad shares of the day. How about we start over and forget about all of it? There's a lot that we missed today to make up for. I haven't even begun to explain how good it felt watching half the class struggle over the English project we've already completed."

His heart fluttered, hearing her laughter ringing through the small space again. He wiped his eyes of his previous tears, then. All of the negativity and anger flying out the window just about as easily as things were going with Rachel right now. Oh how much he wanted to reach over and touch her the way that he used to. But, he couldn't. She wouldn't understand.

"Right, it's Friday night." Her attention was forward, looking out the windshield into the darkness around them. That's when he spotted the group walking to their cars. Mike Chang, of all people, ran forward then. Dropping his bag in front of him, he bent over and began twerking in front of the headlights of Jamie's truck.

"I'm sure you want to spend it hanging out with your football friends or something," she pointed in their direction. He didn't miss her chuckle. He only lowered his head, laughing at their stupidity.

"I think I'm fine where I am."

That's when the boy turned to look in their direction. He must have recognized the logo in front of the dark car. He wondered if he could see them through his tinted windows.

The boy then called, "Finnegan!"

"Crap!" he rushed to turn the key in the ignition. "I think I spoke too soon."

"Go, go!" Rachel exclaimed completely amused, clapping her hands together. Before the boy could get to his car door, he'd backed out and they were headed towards the main road, away from the stadium.

"That was close," he sighed in relief.

"Would he have given you a lap dance?" she asked, smiling at him, "Just curious."

"With him, there's no telling…" he replied, keeping his focus on the road.

"So, where to now, driver?" she looked out the window as he drove a few miles over the speed limit. "Please, don't tell me you're going to take me home."

He'd made up his mind then and there. He was sick of being careful. Maybe it was her, maybe it was the shitty night he'd been having before, or maybe it was the speed his car was going that caused him to want to feel more alive. Either way, he decided that maybe tonight was the perfect night to, just this one time, ditch that perfect image that he'd been working so hard at keeping up.

"That all depends…"

"On what?" she waited for an answer. He didn't give her one. Instead, he focused on the road before him. His heart, definitely something other than focused. She leaned back in her seat then, defeated. He spent the time trying to think of things they could do to live on the edge.

The parking lot was small, but definitely not vacant. It was reasonable. Tonight _was_ the first day of the weekend, after all. Once parked, he looked to her. She looked back at him. He couldn't really tell what her expression was.

He finally answered, "It all depends on how well you are with-"

She cut him off, "a liquor store?"

"I have a fake Id," he assured her. "Who else would I want to live tonight up with?"

"Don't mean to ruin your buzz or anything, but, you just came back from a football game. You're drowning in McKinley High attire." He looked down at his letterman jacket and matching sweatpants. Okay, maybe he wasn't that great at being in the moment. Sue him, this was the first time he'd done anything like this in a very long time.

"Well, what about you?" he asked. "You just finished smoking weed with my sister. I'm sure you can come up with something."

She looked thoughtful before turning back to look him in the eyes, "Watch me."

Before he could protest, she was hopping out of the car. He obeyed and watched her closely, amazed. She kept herself together. Any bystander, including himself if he didn't know who she was, could have mistaken her for a thirty year old woman. He hoped this would be the case with the vendor.

He didn't like the way his fists clenched the moment she strode past a group of loitering bikers. The men seemed to be in their late thirties, maybe early forties. It didn't take them long to spot her. Once they did, he heard their hoots and hollers from the car. It took everything inside of him to not blow their cover and get out.

He wondered how she paid no mind; especially after one of them reached forward to smack her ass. She smiled politely, gliding past them and into the glass entrance, covered in alcohol and tobacco product advertisements.

To his surprise, it didn't take her long. He was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, to the pattern of the drums in the song playing on the radio, when he spotted her. She strode happily past the bikers, her arms holstering up two large brown-paper bags. He thought about getting out and helping her. But, he remembered what he was wearing. Reaching over, he popped the passenger door open for her. The men watched her intently, until she got inside. Trailing their eyes to him in the driver's seat, they turned away in disinterest.

"What's all this?" he chuckled, finally paying attention to what she'd shoved at her feet. He heard the clinks of the glass. She reached forward then. In her hands, she pulled out two bottles of whiskey and a six-pack of wine coolers.

"You're welcome," she smiled. "This should get us well past the drunken state."

"How?" he couldn't even finish. "You have no id."

"I didn't need one. I can be very persuasive when I want to be," she winked.

"Well, at least let me pay you back. I'm sure this was a lot." He reached for his wallet.

"No, it wasn't. I didn't even pay for it." She didn't pay attention to the caution lighting up in his eyes. She only looked back at the store through the side mirror as he drove away.

"What do you mean, you didn't pay for it? Did you get someone else to? Did you _steal_?"

"Relax, Hudson. It was on the house."

"What?"

"It was free." She further explained. "Can we not focus on this? I thought you wanted to live it up." She used her fingers for quotation marks. She was mocking him. He chuckled, shaking his mind of his incessant worrying. If she wasn't bothered, he wouldn't be. He'd just have to do what he'd always done. He'd have to trust her.

"So, where to now?" she asked.

"Somewhere with no cops, for one." He laughed, "…and somewhere where no one will find us."

"Are you plotting to get me drunk and then kill me?"

"That's actually a bit ironic, with the place I have in mind." As he drove further, they fell into a silence. It was nice, really. He knew that her mind was probably focusing on where he was taking her. That left space for his mind to focus on what he would do with her tonight, and how he would act around her.

There was no telling where all of this alcohol would take him tonight. He immediately canceled out the thoughts he'd been having, since before she was even his in the first place. Touching her, kissing her, holding her, they were all options that had to be thrown out the window for the time being. He didn't know if he'd be able to handle her rejection. They had just become friends a few weeks before. Things were new. The thought wasn't intelligent. He shook his head clear.

"What?" she asked. She'd been watching him.

"It's nothing," he assured her. The turn the car made distracted her from questioning him further. He was thankful for this. He wasn't sure they'd make it far if he'd have to explain. He internally cringed thinking of the conversation.

" _Tell me what you were just thinking," she would beg._

 _He'd be forced to. "I was thinking of whether or not I should kiss you tonight."_

" _Are you being serious? We're just friends, Finn. I thought you were different than all of the other jerk, pig-like jocks around here. I guess I was wrong. Take me home, please."_

"Finn?" he hadn't realized she'd been calling his name all the while. He turned to look at her.

"Where the hell are we?" That's when he pulled up to the worn gate and she'd gotten her answers.

"I figured you'd appreciate it," he smiled at her.

"A grave yard?" she looked out the window in disbelief. "Do I really give off that impression?"

"Only sometimes," he laughed. Turning the car off, he opened his door. One street light was all that shown down on them. Everything else was forest and complete darkness. He used the hood of his car for support as he moved over to her side, opening the door, "C'mon."

They began along the long, concrete walkway. He didn't miss the way she cowered beside him. She looked side to side, taking in names that he knew were familiar to the both of them. Once they got to Giuseppe and Nathaniel Maddox, she stopped. He turned to watch her. Turning the lid off of the whiskey, she tossed a bit of liquid.

"Ouch," he joked. "Dinner didn't go well the other night?" He was a little curious as to how she would explain her reasoning.

"An old family enemy," she justified, returning closely to his side. He held his arm out as bait. There wasn't a moment of thought before she grabbed, curling into it.

"So, let me get this straight," he looked to the ground as he spoke. "You aren't afraid of the law, but grave yards are a no-go?"

"I'm still a girl, Hudson." She reminded him. No, he thought. She was more than that. He cleared his mind before it became evident that he was lost in it. "I have my moments."

"Definitely noticed that," he chuckled as she playfully punched him in the arm. "I'm just joking."

"Maybe I'm not as brooding as everyone thinks," she said, perching upon a concrete bench they'd come across. "Maybe I don't own a flying broom, or sleep in a coffin."

"You sleep in a castle." He reminded her, she chuckled. "And, as for the broom… Well, your nose is definitely unusual, but nothing of the witch sort."

"Hey!" she laughed, nudging him.

"Take it as a compliment," He smiled, looking away as he said this. "It sets you apart from every other girl here. It makes you more beautiful."

She became serious, looking up at him. "Thanks, Finn."

"I think we should start drinking," he tried to redirect her attention. He was still terrified of rejection.

"Great minds think alike," she agreed.

"Crap, we should've gotten cups." He sighed, looking at the bottle.

"So, I'm afraid of grave yards and you're afraid of germs," he playfully rolled his eyes at her, "got it."

He yanked the bottle from her hands and took a long swig. She laughed watching his face scrunch. The alcohol felt like a thousand knifes traveling down his esophagus at once. He realized then exactly how long it had been since the last time he'd done this.

"Do you need a glass of water?" she playfully pouted. He took another swig to prove her wrong. They began taking turns after. The more he did it, the easier it became. Moments later, the found themselves sitting at the foot of the single oak tree in the middle of the yard. They'd gotten all the joking out the way, and somehow moved onto deeper subjects.

"I'm from Italian descent," he admitted to one of the questions she'd asked.

"Really," she thought on. "The name Finnegan doesn't really give me that vibe."

"Yeah, it's weird." It wasn't even his real name. He couldn't remember now if she'd known that. Maybe things had fallen apart before he'd come around to being able to tell her.

"But, you're from here?" she wondered. "Crystal Willow?"

"That's what they tell me," he lied. She'd been doing it too, so he didn't understand the guilt tugging at his chest. "I never knew my real parents."

"So, Carole, you've been with her all of your life?"

"Not my whole life," this much was true. "We've jumped from foster homes quite a bit."

"We?" she repeated, "Percy and Toni?"

"We've been together for as long as I can remember." He answered. "Carole agreed to take us in a few years ago. Her and Mike adopted us and we've been there ever since."

"That sounds nice," she smiled at the thought.

"You know, you don't really have it as bad as you think." The blow was unintentional.

"Says the guy standing on the outside of the house," she looked away. He'd poked at her touchy-subject region. He didn't feel bad, however. If she were going to make the move to open up to anyone around here, it'd be him. She'd already come such a long way past her reserved act.

"I'm just saying," he held his hands up in defense. Okay, maybe the alcohol was claiming some partial role in things now. "Emma, for example, she was so willing the other night to show you guys off to the Maddox's."

She scoffed, "Don't remind me."

"Well, she's a lot more caring than Mike, that's for sure." He nodded, looking to his hands before saying what he would. "Any day, I'd choose a sense of permanence over all of the homes we've experienced."

He was being somewhat truthful. Being an eternal seventeen year old definitely had its downsides. Percy, Toni, and he had been forced to live in some gruesome environments. It wasn't really ideal on their accounts, but it was something that came along with the territory of running for so long.

They needed a cover-up, a sanctuary; a place where _he'd_ never be able to find the three. With that being said, the United States seemed to have them in mind. Every time they'd crossed each other's turf, the government seemed to rule in favor of locking them away in these hell homes. They were only grateful that they weren't separated from each other when said events occurred. It made it that much easier for their plans of escape. It'd only become repetitious from that point.

Then, they came across Mike and Carole Hudson. The last name was what initially caught Finn's attention. He figured the male was a descendant of the inhabitants whom Finn's borrowed name originated from the last time they'd migrated into Crystal Willow. They were a married couple, in their late thirties, with no kids due to fertility issues, living in such an ordinary looking home. It was perfect.

Shortly after, the three moved in, compelled the couple with no questions asked, and they've been there ever since. Carole had no problem with the adjustment. Her longing for children immediately placed her maternal skills into effect. Mike, on the other hand, was the one they had to worry about. To this day, he still had trouble with adjusting.

It had nothing to do with the compulsion. They were successful, putting Percy's fears at bay. In fact, the three had been very successful at keeping their secrets their own. The couple had no idea that they were sharing their home with vampires. They kept all sources of blood away, they ate the meals without a hint of struggle, and they made absolutely sure- well, until Percy messed up a couple of weeks before- to never lay a hand on either of them.

It was the past that was nagging at Mike. It turned out that he didn't want any children in the first place. Finn was sure when the doctor told them they couldn't have kids, he was relieved. Now, well, he kept to himself. The only time any of them would even physically see him was if he was on the couch or at the table for dinner.

Her eyes lowered a bit. "I'm sorry."

He chuckled. "I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to be open with me." He handed her the bottle of whiskey. They were still on the first one, not even halfway through, the other bottle and pack of coolers, sitting unattended on the ground next to them. "Here, you have the talking stick now."

She rolled her eyes before taking a swig. "It's not that simple, Finn. I don't know how to explain how I feel without sounding like an over-privileged brat."

"Just try." She was; that was a sure thing. She took a few moments of silence to gather her thoughts.

"They're different from me, happy I guess. They live in this really big bubble and I always feel like I'm on the outside of it," She lowered her head. "I- I know I should be grateful, okay? If they wouldn't have taken me in, no one else would have. I know that. It's just, it's just-"

"It's just, what?" He caught the attention of her eyes again.

"We're in two different worlds, half the time," she shook her head. "I don't know how to be around them and they don't know how to be around me. They have this unrealistic notion in their heads that I'm capable of change; that good is within my reach."

"What do you think?"

"I'm not, and it's not," she didn't have to think about it, which sent Finn's heart slowly quivering to his feet. He couldn't believe these words and how little she thought of herself. Of course, she was. She'd always been. His fists curled knowing she'd been corrupted of that inner beauty he so was willing to give everything up for, just so she could keep it. By someone; someone that wasn't him.

"Happiness seems like a fairy tale, almost. It's like every time I watch a romantic show or read a book where the characters are laughing, I feel like I'm watching brainwashed people. It can't really be that way, can it? People can't just feel that way all of the time… Things happen and negativity is inevitable. So, why lie like that? How can I become something different than who I really am, just to make someone else feel better?"

"Have you ever thought that maybe you're capable of feeling that way on your own, and not for the entertainment of others?" Finn raised an eyebrow, challenging her.

"It's impossible, especially with everything that's happened in my past-"

She cut herself off this time, but it was too late. He eyed her, full of hope.

"What happened in your past?" he pushed. He was dancing around the edges, he knew this. A matter of minutes and the whole thing would be for nothing.

"I lied to you the other day when we were talking about my upbringing." She admitted.

"So, you're from here, too?" Was he pushing too hard for a bit of truth?

"If you want to be technical, then yes." She took another sip. "I was born here. However, my mother migrated with me and all of her things to New York when I was six. I don't know, something about a fight with my dad. I never met the guy. Anyways, two years later, things changed again in our living situation. She met someone, we moved in, she became addicted to meth, and then I moved out. With my all-but-trust-worthy social worker, I ended up in the system for two years. Then, before my tenth birthday, was when Will and Emma found me."

He instantly became frustrated. Her eyes were screaming at him. She made the whole thing sound so simple, but on the inside, he knew that she was suffering more than anyone could imagine.

"Gosh, Rachel, I don't understand why you're lying to me." His words were faster than his mind could be to stop him. It all came out in a blur.

" _Excuse me?_ "

Shit, how would he clear this up? He thought for a second. "You're eyes," he started. "You do this thing with your eyes when you're being discreet. I've noticed it before when we're around Will, Emma, and the others."

To his surprise, she laughed. "I was right about you, wasn't I? You really are a stalker."

"Maybe," his plan instantly demised after that. Any chance of prodding for more floated away with the seriousness of their discussions as her laughter filled his ears. She was definitely falling into the effects of the alcohol.

About an hour later, they were through the first bottle and Rachel was completely wasted. Hell, they both were. They laughed simultaneously, his head feeling lighter and his words feeling more difficult to get out of his mouth. He also found it impossible to distract himself from the fact that Rachel was leaning her entire frame against him.

"Favorite movie, go!" she giggled, using the hand in which the bottle rested to point in his direction. Yes, they were definitely being disrespectful to the dead. Oh well, he thought. Most of these people were complete assholes to him when they were alive, anyways.

" _The Incredibles_ ," she scrunched her nose.

" _Disney_?" she asked. "Out of all movies in the entire universe, you choose one produced by _Disney_?"

"Wow, so much emotion," Throwing his hands up, they laughed together. "What has it ever done to you?"

"Nothing," she admitted. "Just a little unexpected, that's all."

"What about you, grave yard girl?" He was sensing a new trend rising at the surface. "What's your favorite movie?"

" _Twilight_ ," he grimaced at her words.

"Are you serious?"

"Why not?" she shrugged her shoulders. "I've read the books."

"And, your favorite book?" He was now the one to make the move to progress the conversation.

" _The City of Ember_ ," she looked well invested in her choice of words. "Have you read it?"

"In the seventh grade," he laughed, watching her face fall before rolling her eyes.

"Well, what's yours?" she crossed her arms. "Do you even know how to read?"

He expels her insult, " _The Outsiders_ , thank you _very_ much."

As time flew by, their conversation became more heated. Over the half-empty bottle of whiskey, they spoke of politics, celebrities, and even threw the occasional poke at one another.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she exclaimed, playfully elbowing him in his shoulder. He took the jolt to his side, loving any excuse to have any type of contact with her. This alcohol was elevating his non-existent teenage hormones. "My style is iconic!"

"You wore a _Star-Wars_ t-shirt on your first day of school. For an inch of a second, I thought you were a Lesbian."

"So, what if I was?" she winked before changing her path of thought. "Did you really, though?"

"Maybe," he replied casually.

"Well, you're a re-wearer so…" she fired back.

"I have no idea what you just called me and I might be okay with that."

"You wear the same clothes over and over again." She explained, running her fingers along the cotton of his t-shirt sticking out underneath his letterman jacket.

"Well, we can't all have the luxury of living in a house the size of _Disneyland_." She threw another punch to his shoulder.

"May I remind you that after you crashed your Porsche, you went out and bought a brand new Mercedes?" she rolled her eyes. "And, what's with this _Disney_ obsession?"

"Maybe it's my turn to enjoy getting a rise out of you…" he failed miserably at trying to hide the seduction in his voice. She paid it no mind. Instead, she leaned in closer.

Chills ran up his spine feeling the hotness of her breath against his lips. His drunken state was oblivious to the alcohol that was obviously behind all their actions. In a moment, her doe-brown eyes were interlocked with his. He couldn't see anything past them.

"You're crazy," she shook her head, eyes darkening with something he couldn't quite read.

"I know that," he didn't want anything to ruin the moment, so he went with the flow.

"Finn Hudson, you drive me completely and utterly insane."

That's all it took. He was diving in. The moment that familiar electricity surged through his body, he was immediately at home. Being deprived of someone for so long was sure to help guide the course. After a century and a few decades of being apart, it felt as if nothing had changed. He knew exactly what he was doing, even if she didn't. The motion in which she enjoyed their lips to move, the pace and time, the exact place on her cheeks that she enjoyed when he caressed, he knew it all.

So, in their drunken collision, he wasn't surprised when the bottle fell from her hands before moving to deepen things. She saddled him now, the familiar feel of her fingers running through his hair. She was like a firework to him. Sparks flew endlessly between each and every touch.

Parting her lips, she allowed his tongue entrance. He took advantage of the opportunity. Completely breathless and desperately seeking oxygen, he felt as if she were the cure. He didn't want to move away from her. The things going on in his mind now exceeded the things he'd dreamed of in her absence. They danced in a familiar pattern, the silk of her loose hair now welcoming his fingers.

Any masculine power he'd had over the moment instantly vanished. She stole control of the intense make-out session, shoving him against the roots of the tree below them. Lying flat, he allowed her to hover over him. Throwing his head back, her scent alone was enough to send him over the edge. The dark, sultry perfume mixed with her shampoo was all he could smell as they moved against each other. He squeezed his eyes shut, the sensation of her lips trailing down his neck almost becoming too much to bear.

He gained back his control then, switching her figure underneath him. As his lips took their turn with her neck, her moans were like angels singing in his ears. She tugged at his hair then, the pain from his scalp only adding to the pleasure of things.

He moved his fingers to her torso, intent on ripping the buttons off of her parka. Then, as if credits began rolling in a really, really good movie, things ended as soon as they had begun. First, her body tensed under his. Then, his heart clenched, feeling her pull away from his grasp.

She didn't say anything. She didn't even look at him. She sat erect, hands placed firmly on her lap, staring at the ground, completely unaware of the tumbleweed that was her hair. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she looked almost _ashamed_.

He became nauseous. He was definitely suffering the consequences of acting the way he promised himself he wouldn't. He'd been rejected, it was blatantly obvious. He only wondered what was going through her mind at the moment.

"Rachel?"

"I'm sorry," she closed her eyes and shook her head before turning back to face him. Before long, she was standing, looking down at him. "I should really be going."

He was standing then, towering over her. All forms and bottles of alcohol were now long forgotten in their spot on the ground. He couldn't ignore the regret jolting through his body, seeing things unfold before him, exactly how they had in his mind earlier in the car.

"I'll take you home, then." He reached for his keys. However, her voice stopped him in the process.

"Actually, I think I'll walk." Wow, had she had _that_ much shame? Was he _that_ repulsive?

"Rachel, c'mon, it's three in the morning." Alarm settled beneath her features. She reached for her phone, skimming over the long list of missed calls.

"I'm dead."

"We're also really drunk, which is why I think we'd have a better chance hitch-hiking." The senseless joke did nothing to settle the disappointment of her rejection, still lingering through his chest. She also didn't laugh, which made him feel worse. "C'mon, at least let me get some coffee into you before you step through your front door."

She only said she was sorry again. Watching her slowly back away, he sighed, knowing very well that he'd just fucked everything up, from start to finish, with a single kiss; a kiss that was supposed to serve as healing purposes. He thought maybe that would be all it would take for her to remember him just a little. He was wrong, however. The fact that she'd returned it in the beginning did nothing to soothe him. The look in her eyes, the regret, finished the argument. Her swift, escape-like actions closed the case. He was a finished man.

Before he could open his mouth again to better or worsen the situation, reality set in. She was now _gone_ and he was left stranded in the middle of a grave yard, feeling hopeless, alone, and more than just cold. Looking back to the tree where she sat before, leaning against his side and then to the alcohol they'd been sipping on before everything fell over the cliff, his mind was made up.

Tonight, he'd made a very bad decision.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think :) -Kat**


	14. Please Excuse My Head, It Won't Shut Up

**Chapter 13**

She was stumbling. For the first time in a very, very long time, her advanced agility, speed, and precision failed to keep her upright. In the middle of a place she knew like the back of her hand, the forest floor seemed to be an enemy tonight. The combination of branches, fallen trees, and tree roots were reaching out at her feet every step she took. The result, they won.

Okay, maybe they had some assistance in their victory. For one, she was drunk. Two, her eyes were watering, only allowing her to operate on tunnel vision. And last, her mind was further than a mile away.

It was venturing to a century and a few decades ago, to be exact. Back to a time when she felt the way she was feeling now, when she was feeling this same state of _confusion._

 _Through every long and curly lock of deep brown hair, she slowly dragged the golden brush at hand. Her pale face was all she could see through the dim light of the candles before her. The mirror on her vanity showed her exactly what she didn't want to see._

 _The fear, it was still very present in her features. It had been a matter of hours since he'd blown up at the dinner table, pushing her over the edge of the chair. The point of impact against her spine was merely a bruise. However, the images floating through her brain were more. With all of these ideals presented, it was understandable how she flinched when the door to her bedchambers flew open. The brush in her hand fell to the floor._

 _She closed her eyes, raising her hand to her heart. Through the mirror, she watched as Sarah's face fell in remorse._

" _I'm sorry if I frightened you, Ms. Berry." She didn't miss how she was still reluctant to address her by her first name. She didn't reprimand. Her plate was too full at the moment. "I wanted to see if you needed anything before bedtime."_

" _It's fine," she smiled, noticing the way in which she walked forward. It was as if she were walking on pins and needles, prepared for a break down or a snap in her direction. She'd been attending to another family down the road, so she missed a front row seat to today's dinner debacle. However, Amelia wasn't stupid. She knew the staff talked._

 _If anything, this made her a bit uncomfortable. Pity had really never been in her forte. In the presence of a girl whom she'd been so open with before, she was now staring at the hard wood beneath them. Picking up the brush, Sarah cautiously picked up a section of her hair. She concentrated on this while Amelia watched her through the mirror._

 _It didn't take long for her to cower under her gaze. Setting the brush before her, she smoothened out her dress before backing away. Amelia beat her to speaking. "I know that you must've been informed on what happened this evening."_

 _She nodded very slowly._

" _Look at me," Amelia turned to face her. "I'm fine, really. Your reservation is not necessary."_

" _Are you sure? Because Nadine said-" She'd worked herself up. She caught herself afterwards, lowering her voice and returning to her composed posture. "I'm really sorry that you were hurt."_

 _She rose, moving before the girl. Reaching out, she took her into her arms. "I'm a lot stronger than I look, you know." She whispered in her ears. "But, thank you, Sarah. You're the best friend a girl could ask for."_

 _She pulled away to look at her, "Really?"_

" _Really," she confirmed. Looking to the large clock on the wall, her mind had been decided. "Why don't you call it a night? It's getting really late, you look extremely exhausted, and I'm about to resign for the night, anyways. I'll make sure that not a single penny is subtracted from you original pay. Take a break, you deserve one."_

" _What about-"_

" _If he asks, tell him that I said it was okay." she felt her eyes darken. The fear she'd been keeping below suddenly shifted to anger. "Have a good night, Sarah."_

" _Thank you, Amelia," a hint of personal achievement rang from within. Sarah had finally said her name. "Good night." She was alone again._

 _This time, she walked over to a desk on the opposite side of the room. Sorting through the selection above the dark wooden finish, she chose the smallest. She needed a quick read, something to keep her mind focused until she could hold her eyes open no longer. Moving the candles to her bedside, she sprawled out and began the first page._

 _A creak from the door stole her attention. Sitting up, she assumed it would be Sarah, coming back for something she hadn't done. However, a chill followed the initial shock of seeing the man before her bed posts._

 _She resorted to high alert, the book being nothing more than a surrounding prop. She didn't even shutter as the hard back hit the floor. Her eyes were wide and locked. She felt like she was on a rocking boat. Each step he made forward resulted in her crouching back further._

 _She'd like to believe that she was more prepared this time. The anger radiating off of her ensured her confidence in the act of self-defense. Her fists clenched as adrenaline bubbled beneath the surface of her skin. If he were to attack again, she was more than willing to put up a fight._

" _It's late," her voice came out in barely a whisper, lacking the powerhouse she initially hoped for._

 _To her surprise, he didn't pick up on this. Instead, he moved further forward. By now, the hairs on the back of her neck were standing. Sitting at the edge of her bed, she pulled her feet toward her torso, holding them closely with her arms. Only in his presence did her back start to ache again._

" _This is for you," She flinched when his hand reached out. He noticed this, but he didn't say a word. He only watched her expression intently. His palm displayed a single red rose._

 _She observed it for a long moment. Then, before he became too suspicious, she knew that she'd have to take it sooner or later. But, her mind screamed at her. She wondered if the thorns were coated in a poison. Was he waiting for her to nick her finger? This delayed her reaction further._

 _Finally, he became impatient. He placed it on the bed before her, taking in the fear that seemed to be reflecting from her eyes. "I wanted to apologize."_

 _She was at a loss of words. She wanted to protest, but she didn't know how. She couldn't even open her mouth at this point. Instead, he took this silence as a green light._

" _My actions this evening were uncalled for." Reluctant, he reached forward and grabbed her hand into his callused ones. "The person you saw, that's not who I am. I have just been under a lot of stress lately. Between things with the business and my father-"_

 _He stopped to bend his head for a moment. Raising her hand, he placed a gentle kiss to her knuckle. She cringed, remembering how he'd done it before at dinner. If she didn't know any better, she'd have sworn to see a few tears rolling from his cheeks. Then, his red eyes looked up to meet hers, proving her assumptions._

" _I put my hands on you," he spit the words out. By the smell of things, maybe the alcohol from before was exiting his system. "I used them in a way that a woman like you doesn't deserve."_

 _She only watched him fall deeper into his own misery. "I want to see it."_

" _What?"_

" _Let me see the bruise my hands have created," she became appalled. It was one thing for him to enter her chambers without knocking, but another to ask for her to lift her night dress and view her corset-less back. Her modesty was slowly dwindling to a myth before her own eyes._

" _Don't touch me," she warned, eyes still dark with fire._

 _He sighed, nodding at her resignation. "I understand."_

" _But, please, just listen to me. I swear it, Amelia; I love you with all of my heart."_

 _Tears burned her eyes, threatening to spill over and reveal her vulnerability. It hadn't been this way since the night her father told her about the decision he'd made involving her fate. "You pushed me."_

" _I'm a mongrel." He harshly insulted himself. "You're important to me, Amelia. I never thought I'd feel this way about someone before. I can't lose you. Please, forgive me and I promise to never act that way again around you. Please…"_

" _Do you really mean that?" she asked._

" _I do."_

 _She was indecisive. She didn't know whether this was just one of his charades or the real truth. She didn't know him well enough to read into his expression. So, she only looked to the rose before her and nodded, before looking back up at him. "Okay." Maybe that was too easy for the things he'd done._

" _You'll forgive me?" his tear filled eyes lost the grief the moment she said the word. Hope took its place._

" _Yes," the word 'no' seemed to ring so much better in her head. However, it was because of the fact that she'd already been introduced to what he was capable of that she agreed with him. She was thankful for the fact that her face didn't reveal too much._

 _Without permission, he took her into his arms. With both hands placed firmly and forcefully behind her back, he placed a soft kiss to the top of her head. Leaning forward, his eyes remained closed as he whispered into her ear, "I love you so much, Amelia Berry."_

 _Staring blankly off into space, hating the ominous feelings coming along with his embrace, she replied, "I love you too."_

The house was dark on the inside, but not hard to spot. With the light of the pale moon above her, she found the porch without difficulty. The contemplations running through her tight-spaced forehead distracted her journey to the front door. Before long, she was absentmindedly tugging at a locked knob. That's when she snapped back to reality.

The door was locked. They'd locked her out of the house.

Too consumed in what happened moments before, she hardly thought to consider the severity of the many missed voice mails and the messages. She figured they'd do as they always had. _Crap_ , she thought. Emma's previous warning to her the other night seemed to echo back into her mind. This new authority thing clearly needed some getting used to.

With her panic on the rise, she fumbled through the potted ferns on either side of her. She considered the window when her dirt-covered fingers failed to examine the tiny metal object. Surely, they wouldn't lock that too.

She assumed correctly. The glass frame slid up perfectly, allowing entrance. Her maneuvers were cat-like, careful not to make that much of a thud on the wooden floor when she stuck her landing. The living room surrounding her seemed to be vacant and dark, allowing her to assume that three in the morning was their limit. She'd never really pressed that far before.

Before she could quietly retreat to her room, a low giggle caught her attention. It was barely audible, and if not for her supernatural hearing, she would've missed it completely. Pausing like a robber caught in their tracks, she listened carefully for any indication of its whereabouts.

The kitchen, it seemed. Tiptoeing to where the two rooms met, the sound became more apparent. Through the shadows of the moon shining in through the blinded windows, she spotted two figures sitting closely at the counter. Their whispers were much louder now as they fidgeted with something before them.

"I can't believe you've never had peanut butter on your Oreos," the voice was clearly Olivia's.

"How do you find this stuff enjoyable, Liv?" It seemed to be Elliot on the side of her. "Human food feels like sandpaper against my tongue."

"You just have to make right combinations, silly." She shoved something into his mouth. The ear-splitting crunching could be heard, then. That's when Rachel figured standing here and watching them was pointless.

It was before she'd made the turn to leave that she saw it. The two at the counter had closed the distance between them. With her jaw on the floor, she watched the intimate moment unfold. Through the moonlight, the two giggled like children, moving against each other's lips.

 _Holy shit_ , was all she could think. She wondered how long this had been going on. More than that, she wondered if she were the first person to see this. Did Will and Emma know? What would they say? In technical terms, it wasn't incest. However, they all lived together and acted like a family.

Olivia and Elliot were together? How in the world had this transformed? The two were polar opposites. Elliot repelled large crowds and was shier than the sun on a rainy day. Olivia, on the other hand, was the life of the party with a cringe-worthy ability to not hold a single thing on her tongue and never know when to shut the hell up.

She knew they'd been spending a lot of time together lately. She guessed she was just too consumed in her own thoughts to catch the underlying hints. She took a step backwards to quickly exit the scene, instantly regretting it. The moment the loud creak in the floorboard sounded, the two parted. As for her, well, it was too late.

"Rachel?" Oliva called.

She'd been caught. Flicking on the light, she took a closer observation of their flushed faces. Their retreating efforts were useless. It was no longer a secret and all three knew this.

"The door was locked," Her shoulders sunk in embarrassment as one hand found the back pocket of her jeans while the other pointed in the direction behind her. To make things easier for herself, her eyesight remained to the floor. "I climbed in through the window."

"Uh, yeah," Olivia coughed and then cleared her throat, rising to her feet. "Emma must've done it on accident before they turned in."

Keeping her eyes on her feet, she nodded in acceptance. The awkwardness in the air seemed to have the same effect on Elliot. He remained mute.

"So, where have you been, anyways?" Olivia crossed her arms.

"I was out," she scratched her scalp, "with Finn."

Her reaction shocked Rachel. She remained indifferent at the mention of his name. Instead, she walked over to the fridge and retrieved a blood bag.

"Oh, well, here," she placed it into her palms. "You must be hungry."

"Thanks," Rachel mumbled, ripping the cap off, chugging the dark liquid without a pause. As usual, the satisfaction was nowhere near. The burning hunger only worsened.

"You might want to take a shower or something. You reek of alcohol. As for Will and Emma, well, I think you're in for it when you get up tomorrow. They seemed pretty-"

Rachel interrupted her, "With all due respect, Olivia, I don't really think lectures are appropriate right now."

She looked between Elliot and Rachel, "Rachel, please, you can't t-"

"Don't worry," she interrupted again. "Your secret's safe with me as long as mine is safe with the two of you."

"Deal," she nodded profusely, Elliot as well.

"Okay, good night," she left before things could get weirder.

It wasn't until she was safely locked into her room that her hysterics kicked in. She flung backwards onto her cotton-white comforter. Staring at the ceiling above, she broke out into a fit of her own giggles.

Nothing was funny to her. If anything, the unraveling of tonight was down-right horrific. The irony, however, was what really got to her. It was always such a fickle little thing. One minute, she was too consumed in her own love life- or should she say lack thereof- to physically see straight. Now, as easy as ever, all previous thoughts were swept clean from her mind, all with the help of the most unexpected news. Olivia and Elliot had just mopped her away from everything. Wow, what a knee-slapper.

Sitting up, she knew that she would be entering dangerous territory if she allowed herself to carry on like this. She was beginning to question the alcohol's presence in the first place. Her sanity was creeping at the edge. And, if she didn't get a good grip on things, she knew that she'd be following over it real soon.

Her mind stole her attention again, immediately halting the fit. The _Coldplay_ poster on the wall in front of her was all her eyes could focus on now.

It was time. Her conscience seemed to have found itself in the middle of a dark alley, holding a very expensive purse, being cornered off by angry thieves. Those thieves being the thoughts that would, in the literal sense, drain the daylight out of her. However, it was a fight that had to happen. Defense was critical.

There was just so much to think about. In her head sounded a countless amount of voices, screaming at high volumes from every which way.

Do _this_.

Do _that_.

Don't do anything at all.

Just ignore it all completely.

 _Pretend._ This seemed like the easiest option for her. Oh, how she wished she could just throw it all under the bus and walk away.

No, she couldn't let procrastination win. It wasn't that easy. This wasn't a back-burner type of situation. Unlike many of her other problems faced before, this one would most-likely be waiting at her front step tomorrow, or at school first thing Monday morning.

She needed to get into the game. She needed to set her priorities straight. She needed to create a mental triage and sort through her issues, most important to least. More importantly, she needed to take a shower. Olivia was right. She did reek. After downing liquid poison and rolling around on the wet, leafy ground, she felt disgusting.

As always, the steaming hot water falling against her skin gave her the illusion of stepping through the gates of Heaven. Maybe this was what she needed to move things along. Her tensed muscles relaxed, allowing her to close her eyes and savor the moment.

Running her hands up to meet her neck, she sighed. Her fingers traced the area of skin she was sure to have been sporting a hickey if she didn't heal so quickly. She paused for a moment, the water's effectiveness increasing on her imagination. Every drop suddenly turned into every time he pressed his cotton-soft lips against her.

She instantly regretted it, feeling the shudder run through her body. Frustrated, she took the bottle of shampoo and chucked it across the room. Using the wall for support, she slid to the floor of the shower. With the showerhead directly over her now, she pulled her legs close to her chest. She didn't even blink or spit against the hot droplets draining down her face. She kept her focus straight, allowing herself to drown. This was the green light she needed. This was all it took for her mind to take off at full speed.

In that moment, all of her contemplations came back out and met her in her own personal dark alley from hell. First, she thought of tonight and what had happened between them. She went through every motion, from the moment he found her in his car, to the moment they were crouched over each other on the ground in a scary graveyard. Besides the weird looks he gave her before they got to the gate, she came up empty.

But, as much as she wanted to be able to blame the alcohol-created indiscretions, she knew that they weren't fully at fault. It was now obvious. Maybe it had been for a while. Maybe, she was too focused on her own self to see the development.

Could he have developed feelings for her, though? She thought of her reflection in the mirror. As ordinary of a human as he was, she couldn't imagine the appeal. Her features, although heightened by immortality, were never gush-worthy. She'd always felt her nose canceled out any of those chances.

She changed her course of thought, knowing putting herself down with her own insecurities would get her nowhere. So what if he'd fallen for her? Could she feel the same way about him? She wasn't even sure if she'd put a label on them yet. Of course, they were friends. They'd established that weeks ago. However, she didn't know if they were close enough yet for her to be calling him her _best_ friend. He was still her _only_ friend.

He was her little slice of distraction. The misery weighing itself down on her chest every day seemed to lift a little when he was around. When she was with Finn, it's like she lead a different life. It's like she crawled out of her former body and tucked in under her bed every time they were together. She liked the way it made her feel. She never expected him to take that next step.

She tried to picture herself being a couple with him. She watched as her mind conjured up a whirl of images. One moment, they were walking through Crystal Willow High's halls, holding hands while everyone stared. The next, she was attending all of his games, chanting and gloating. There were then the late night phone calls, the "I love you" s, the cuddling, the spooning, the kissing, the hugging…

She violently shook her head free of the fantasies. She cringed at the lies her subconscious was trying to feed her. She would never be able to do that with anyone ever again. It just wasn't her. Not anymore. The large, open space in her chest where her heart used to be tightened a bit, making the pain that much harder to ignore. Before more unwanted memories could resurface, she decided to further her analysis.

Despite her need for a productive focus, her train of thought jumped back to the same thought of his lips without her permission. They felt so good, though. That's what kept bringing her back. No person or supernatural being, for that matter, could deny it. Sometime, while she was in his arms, she picked up on a sense of hope. It was like every doubt she had suddenly vanished at the feeling of his hands running up and down her back. Just for that small fragment of a second, her biggest request had finally been answered. The entire world went away, leaving just the two of them. With the sweet, mesmerizing smell of his breath against her cheeks and the way his hands perfectly caressed her face...

The single thought of any other girl getting this type of attention from him sent her hands balling into fists. A low growl rumbled through her chest, thinking of another feeling his touch, his kiss, his lips…

She was being selfish. She knew it wasn't fair to him. She had to put herself aside, and consider him for once, his feelings. He was a very nice and aspiring guy, a normal person with a long, luxurious life ahead of him. He didn't deserve this type of interference from her.

She decided then that he couldn't think the way he thought. He couldn't want her. She wouldn't allow it. She was dangerous, anything but the right choice. Not only would it break all the laws of science if they were together, he would also get hurt. And, not just in the physical aspect of things. She wouldn't have the ruins of someone else's soul on her hands. She would not allow herself to take away from the things that he needed, from the things he deserved. She would never be able to be the one to give him the full _Brady Bunch_ experience.

And, she wanted him to have this. She wanted him to meet a beautiful girl who could happily marry him without the constant secrecy, urges, and night terrors prohibiting their closeness. She wanted him to be with the person who could give him children, who could grow old with him. She wanted him to live in a big house with a white fence and a fridge that wasn't stocked up with stolen blood bags from the local hospital. Most importantly, she wanted him to have a chance with a girl who actually had a heart, not a large, crater-like opening where one used to be.

She sighed, again, taking into consideration that she was maybe getting ahead of herself. She'd bailed before he had the chance to explain his intentions. Plus, there was also the one pesky little fact that her mind kept forgetting. They had both been drinking.

Maybe love wasn't even on his mind. Maybe he just had a clumsy impulse to do something out of the ordinary. Maybe the alcohol made him really horny…

Or, maybe she was hallucinating. Could it be possible that it was all just a daydream while listening to his voice, a figment of her imagination? No way in hell. That kiss was the realest thing she'd ever felt.

Noticing that her fingers had pruned up in her state of mental absence, she decided that it was time to get out of the shower. Washing herself free of the ground, the alcohol, and _him_ , she stepped out and quickly got dressed.

It took three rounds of toothpaste and a swig of mouthwash before she was confident that the smell had been completely erased. With her wet locks brushed back, her teeth cleaned, and the fact that it was closing in on four am, she decided it was time for bed.

She'd allowed her mind the time it needed for evaluation. She figured there'd be no need for a difficult time falling asleep. Then, two hours later, it was still running wild and her eyes were wider awake than before. What made it even worse was that the day time was slowly creeping in through her dark drapes.

She stayed this way for quite some time, a few hours at the most. Then, as everyone who had gotten a good night's sleep retreated down the stairs to start their day, she figured there was no more use. Tired was nowhere in her vocabulary.

Feeling every wooden step against her foot, she hesitated to enter the crowded living room. She assumed they'd already had their breakfast. The only time they hovered in the kitchen past 8:00 in the morning was usually when they had human visitors. This was the amount of time it took Emma to practice her culinary skills, whipping up a terribly unappetizing meal.

Speaking of Emma, her heart jumped a few extra beats in her chest. She figured that this would probably be the time that last night's rebellions would come back to bite her in the ass. When her presence became apparent, she kept her focus on her toes. Silently, she trekked past the two on the love seat.

To her surprise, they didn't say a word. No one did. Instead, curled up on the couches with cups of coffee in most of their hands, their eyes were glued to the television. Plopping herself into the empty spot beside Elliot, Rachel looked up to investigate what trained their attention.

She gasped then, reading the headline spelled out below the news anchor. _Local teenager, Noah Puckerman, found dead in woods by mysterious bear mauling._

" _The family wishes not to speak at the moment,"_ the woman with the microphone in her hands spoke, her nonchalance almost insulting to the situation.

"Fabrication at its finest," Will muttered, flipping the channel to some family-oriented sitcom.

"What does that mean for us?" Olivia asked, her eyes widening with fear.

"Nothing," Emma tried to reassure the blonde. "Not yet, anyways. I'll try to look in on the autopsy once it's completed."

Rachel scoffed, "Sure, that'll help."

"What are you getting at?" Will narrowed his eyes in her direction.

"There haven't been bears for as long as I've lived here," she informed him, "maybe wolves and mountain lions, but no bears."

"We're surrounded by forest, Rachel," Santana argued. "I'm sure it could be believable."

Sam stepped in. "It could've really been an animal that killed him. I met the guy, pure idiocrasy."

"They didn't just say bear mauling, Sam," Elliot reminded him. "They said _mysterious_ bear mauling."

"Maybe it's like Rachel suggested," Olivia jumped back in. "Maybe they called it mysterious because bears aren't common around here."

"Maybe," Rachel nodded.

"Or, maybe someone else just arrived in town that we don't know about." Elliot replied, earning a glare from his secret love.

"We need to consider all of the facts before jumping to conclusions, guys," Will instructed. "This is the first killing. For now, we keep a close watch, being extra cautious. If they multiply, we'll take action."

Seven nods followed with silence. The authentic crowd laughter of the TV before them suddenly came back into play. That's when they all decided to move out of the room. She rose with them, preparing to follow. Her nerves caught in her throat when Will and Emma remained in place.

"Rachel, we need to talk to you." She sighed in defeat, falling back onto the couch. Let the trial begin.

"You want to know about my whereabouts last night and the possibility of my involvement in all of this, correct?"

"Start talking," Will crossed his arms.

"You both know I'm only capable of gruesome things with my humanity turned off. And, I'm pretty far from that right now, trust me…"

"That still doesn't explain why-" She cut Emma off.

"I was…out, okay?" Her social skills lacked majorly when it came to explaining herself. She only wished they would feel her awkwardness and loosen up a bit. They didn't.

"Out?" Will repeated. "Liv said you snuck in at three."

Are you serious? Her head started to pound. Some secret keeper, she thought. She wondered what the two would think if Rachel lived by the principles of an eye for an eye. She wondered what they would say if she spilled the can of beans that was Olivia and Elliot being intimate in their very dark kitchen. Oh, the sudden impulse she felt to climb up the stairs and wrap her palms tightly against the blonde's neck. The pleas for mercy in her imagination sent a thrill down her back.

Their snapping pulled her back to reality. She whispered to herself, "That little-"

"We've known about them for a while now," Emma informed her as if she could read her mind. "They've been spending a lot of time together and the looks can't be ignored. When we confronted them about it, Olivia offered up your secret as a saving grace for herself, I suppose."

"So, where were you?" Will asked, taking his turn to cross his arms over his chest.

Should she sell them the whole truth? They didn't seem to look fully convinced that she wasn't the one who killed the boy in the woods yet. If they didn't trust her, why should she?

She sighed, resting her elbows against her kneecaps, leaning forward. "I ran into Finn in the parking lot."

She knew they were very smitten with her human friend. So, she decided it'd make a good start. "I must've lost track of time."

Emma pushed, "and the alcohol part?"

Damn it, _Olivia_ , she thought. "May I remind you of the time a few weeks ago when the two of you were encouraging me to attend a bonfire with both drugs _and_ alcohol?"

"That was before our rules changed," Will reminded her.

"Well, they seem to change with the weather, so you have to excuse my confusion." She snapped. She wondered what fueled her sudden agitation. Maybe her exhaustion had finally begun to kick in. Or, maybe talking about last night roared her scattered thoughts back to life.

They were taken aback. She sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? Nothing bad happened and I didn't kill anyone." She assured them. "It was a completely innocent night." Well, not completely… They didn't need to know that. "We just lost track of time talking. And, before I knew it, it was 3 and he was suggesting that I head home." "It won't happen again."

"Rachel-" Emma seemed to be cooking up some lecture. Then, her eyes traced the features of her face and concern flooded hers. "You'd tell us if something were wrong, wouldn't you?"

Of course not. Never. Why would she?

"Of course," she smiled.

"The purple under your eyes looks as if someone took their fists to them." Will informed her.

"Restless night," she dismissed their assumptions.

"Are you sure that's all?"

"Will, Emma," she sighed, closing her eyes. "I'm fine, okay? Try and focus on the issue at hand. There could possibly be another vampire in town."

"We know," Will huffed, obviously upset that it wasn't a subject that could easily be forgotten.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to handle another premature move," Rachel admitted what she hadn't thought to say in front of the others, looking to her thumbs. "As miserable as I may seem sometimes, some things over here are growing on me."

Emma was at her side within seconds, taking her hands in her own. "We're not going anywhere."

"I think this place is growing on all of us," Will commented, at her other side then. With a soft hand against her shoulder, he was holding out a blood bag for her to take. "Here, breakfast will help you."

It did. The liquid surged through her like a warm blanket of hope and serenity. Just for a second she felt the cool marble of her skin warm. Then, it was gone and she was sucking for more. She sighed, folding it over in her hands and handing it back to him.

She stood up. "I think I'm going to get out of the house for a while. There's a sale at the book store today. There were a couple of novels I wanted to check out."

"Have fun," Will commented, standing from the couch as well.

Emma followed, "Don't be too late, okay? I'm enforcing a new rule, starting now. I don't want any of you out past dark."

"Don't you think that's a little harsh, Emma?" Will asked. "They can defend themselves."

"I'm not taking any chances," she glowered in defense. "I've already lost my first set of children. I won't stand to lose my second."

The hole in Rachel's chest throbbed a little. This time, however, it wasn't for herself. This time, she felt pain for Emma. The story of Emma's take on life before immortality would always be engraved in her brain. That's how horrendous it was. All of their stories were horrendous. If they weren't, they'd be nothing more than a bunch of names on tombstones right now.

"I shouldn't take too long," she offered a look of empathy and a hand to her shoulder.

She nodded, turning to resort to the book folded open on the coffee table. Rachel took this as her cue to head back up the stairs.

Olivia was waiting by her door. "Rachel, I'm really sorry for telling on you. I had no other choice."

"Yeah, yeah," she sighed moving past her to slam the door to bedroom.

She dressed simply. Since the weather was the same as the day before, Rachel knew she had to stack up on the layers. With this being said, she chose an outfit closer to what she wore yesterday. She combed through her locks, leaving them flowing down her shoulders before getting into a long-sleeved white shirt, dark jeans, combat boots, and her favorite dark green parka.

She sighed, sliding the grey beanie that Santana had given her for her birthday one year over her head. If asked, she'd reason protection of her ears from the wind. It may work, she thought, stealing a glance out the window. The trees were swaying pretty roughly. Grabbing her bag and keys, she flew down the stairs before anyone could object.

She was right. The air was icy, maybe even a little harsher than yesterday's forecast. She hugged herself waiting for the Ferrari's heating system to relieve her. As soon as the car was set into motion, things took effect.

The small building was quiet, heated, and all-together very soothing to her senses. The smell of old books and coffee was always another weakness of hers next to the smell of blood. She found a vacant table towards the back of the store. Setting her things down, she scanned the aisles carefully, searching for her genre of preference.

The only difference this time was that she completely ducked the romance area. She read the summaries on the back of the books carefully, making sure they eluded any form of love. It wasn't easy, especially since every mystery novel she scanned contained at least one couple or love story.

This led to where she was now. Nose deep in a representation of the Battle of Troy, she hardly noticed him. The outward pull of the chair before hers didn't even grab her attention. It was his voice that pulled her out of the trance.

"I saw the Ferrari in the parking lot on my way home from weight lifting and knew that Santana and Olivia wouldn't be spotted dead over here."

She tried to hide her fear in the small black letters on the book before her. She knew this moment would have to come sooner or later. She just really hoped for later. Then, she remembered that it was Finn sitting in front of her and his persistence was what made them friends in the first place. Unwillingly, all of last night's thoughts flooded back to her head, the memory of his lips against her neck being the first to pop up.

"I'm beginning to think you placed a tracker on my phone sometime when I wasn't looking," she joked, slowly closing the book.

He chuckled, his face surprisingly unreadable. She wished more than anything to know what was going through his head. She wondered if their thoughts correlated. Had he stayed up all night as well? If so, his reflection looked a hell of a lot better than hers did.

"You look like death," he commented, pointing to his eyes for emphasis, furthering her own thought.

"Nothing short of what I feel, I promise." She sighed, reaching for her coffee cup. "What about you?"

He ignored her. "I think we should talk."

"I thought we were," she playfully eyed him suspiciously, internally comprehending what he really meant.

"About last night," he leaned forward.

"Finn, it's not really a good idea." She sighed, redirecting her eyes on the table to lessen the tension. "Not right now, anyways."

"Why not?"

It was her turn to ignore his question. "Have you read this book? It's really good so far."

"Rachel…"

She sighed, standing from the wooden chair and grabbing her things. "Finn, I might just need you to give me some space for now, okay?"

"That's the last thing I want." He argued in a low voice, taking notice of the people surrounding them.

"I just need some time…" she looked down to her feet. "I need to clear my head completely before we can have this discussion."

"What's there to think about when you don't even know what I was going to say?" he called behind her once they'd gotten outside. He followed closely behind as she escaped to her car.

"Your face, Finn…" she whipped around more violently than she'd intended. He jumped back. She took a deep breath for composure and began again. "Your face says everything."

"Then, you know what this is doing to me," he sounded almost hoarse, watching her climb into the car. More than anything, she wanted to get out and give him everything that he was asking for. But, she couldn't.

She was telling the truth when she said that she wasn't ready. Things were still tumbling around in her mind. She'd only tapped the issues, last night. If they were to speak now, she'd be going on freestyle. No telling the things that would come from her mouth and most likely, he'd get hurt. She didn't want that.

So, instead, she stepped back onto the concrete and slowly paced in his direction. Getting onto her tippy toes, she took his confused frame into her arms. A little hesitant, he returned the gesture.

The hug felt different than anything she was used to. Instead of the pity flowing onto her from the other person, she felt warmth. Instead of being forced, held firmly against her will, she felt comfort. There was nothing ominous about it. Like two puzzle pieces, they fit perfectly into each other's embraces. The wave of emotion hit her so hard, she had to step back.

Clearing her throat, she looked back up at him. "Monday morning, okay? I'll be prepared."

He obeyed. For the rest of the day on Saturday and Sunday it was as if he disappeared into oblivion. And, as much as she needed it, his absence was unbearable. It took forever and a day to get to the sunrise Monday morning. However, when it came, she knew there was no going back.

She was correct. Not even seconds after she arrived at school, he climbed into her passenger seat. Turning slightly to face her, he rested his arm on the glove compartment between them.

"Alright, it's time."

* * *

 **Sorry it took me so long to update :( Hope you enjoy! Remember, italics means a flashback...**


	15. Re-Introduction

**Chapter 14**

They sat there for what seemed like forever, taking no notice to the outside world. It was as if they'd formed their own bubble around the tiny space, the subject being too sensitive to pop it. Neither moved an inch when the first bell sounded, the tardy bell following shortly behind. The vacancy of the parking lot didn't even bother him the way it would've on a regular day. Then again, today wasn't just any other day. To add to this, the heated air and the seat warmers also did him no justice.

It was all still a mystery to him. His mind's sudden lapse in judgement, that was. Friday night, he convinced himself that he'd made a horrible mistake. He'd stayed up all night, his mind running wild like a chicken with its head cut off. He was angry with himself. The alcohol seemed like such a stupid idea the more he thought of it. He realized his actions were too biased. He knew that he had to create time to take more of a gradual approach on her. He had to give her the chance to fall in love with _him_.

Then, Saturday dawned on him. The news of his former best friend's demise created a whole new perspective. A _mysterious_ bear mauling, he remembered laughing cruelly at the time. There'd been another killing, and by _who_? That information was still unknown to him. One thing he did know, however, as they all gathered around the small entertainment system that morning. It was a cover up, he was sure of it. Bears hadn't been common in this part of the continental U.S for as long as he'd known the area. It was just the story you sold when you found a boy in the middle of the woods completely drained of blood with two puncture wounds to his neck. As for the "believers", he wondered if they still existed...

With this state of mind, he knew that protecting her was now a number one priority. There would be no more dancing around the fire. He loved her too much for that. His gradual method transformed into essential. His mind was set. He had to have her at his side. The mere thought of losing her again was enough to end his existence.

This explained the way felt Saturday, finding her in the back of the book store. He approached, ready to lay it all out on the line. Some poor excuse about living in the moment flooded his mind, hoping she'd take the bait. When she didn't even let him get that far he became frustrated, her very famous sense of stubbornness getting in the way of things for what seemed like the millionth time.

It was unbelievably difficult watching her walk away from him. His heartbeat heavy with stress, the only comfort he got out of things was when she wrapped her arms around him and promised that they would be able to resume things Monday morning.

Sunday came and went like a million tiny daggers to his chest. The whole day, he was on his toes. With just one word, he'd be at her door before she could even blink. However, the green light never came. Knowing that there was nothing he could do to change her mind, he stayed in. In a feeble attempt to push back his obvious yearning, he tried to focus all of his attention on the novel he was in the process of writing. It wasn't considered a mistake until the romantic plot triggered memories of his own.

" _Finn! Antonio!" Percy's voice seemed to roar as loud as a train, running into the tightly crammed apartment they'd just settled into in Boston. It'd only been a matter of weeks since they left. "Crystal Willow…"_

 _Only one thing flashed into his mind. Amelia. "What's wrong?"_

" _I spoke with Cecilia. There were other vampires besides us in town. The vervain exposed them. They started a rebellion against the humans, Finn. The whole town is ablaze."_

" _What?" he demanded. "Amelia," Before he could zoom to the door, she was at his side, a firm grip on his arm._

" _No," she whispered._

" _I have to go back." He spoke through his teeth._

" _Don't be idiotic, Finn. You'll get yourself killed."_

" _I don't care," he ripped himself free from her grasp, moving towards the door._

" _All this running to keep us alive," she scoffed glaring at him with hard eyes, "just to die a martyr in the end. And, for what? Some silly human girl that you haven't even known for a year?"_

" _I can't think of a better way to go."_

" _She's going to be the first one they target." She reminded him. "They know that the two of you were involved."_

" _I'm not going to let her die before I do." He fought back. He knew it sounded selfish, but he wouldn't have it. "That's final."_

" _Suppose you find her, what are you going to do? Bring her here? She'll never be able to keep up." Percy was on the tip of her toes, ready to pounce forward and knock some sense into him. Toni held her back._

" _Then, I'll change her myself." With that, he slammed the door and ran through the nighttime. It took him about an hour or two for his supernatural speed to get him into the town's border._

 _Cecilia, an old friend of the three, had not been shying away from the truth. He took in the many buildings crumbling under the bright flames. His face grew hot as he watched many faces running around, screaming with terror in their eyes. Carriages were flipped over, horses were thrashing against their ropes, bodies were scattered on the ground… It was the scene of a true nightmare._

 _It took no more than a few seconds to get to her bedchambers. He burst through the door, thinking she'd be pacing in fear or collecting a bunch of her things. To his surprise, she was curled on her side in the bed, snoozing soundlessly. Had no one woken her up? Had no one informed her about the raging war outside? In an instant he was at her side, reaching for her hands. He applied slight force, shaking her awake._

" _Amelia," he whispered frantically. "Amelia, you need to wake up."_

" _Mmm, Finn…" her voice was heavy with slumber. She smiled as she began to doze off again. He shook her more violently._

" _Amelia, wake up."_

 _He had to back away once she bolted in an upright position. Her hands flew to his arms, pressing her fingers hard against them. She then retreated to his face, squeezing his cheeks in her palms. "Finn? Is it really you? Are you really here right now?"_

" _It's me," he smiled, letting her endure the moment. "I'm back." Then, his face became serious. "We have to go."_

" _What?" she asked confused, jumping furiously out of the bed. She then noticed the bright glow from the window behind them. "Finn, what's going on?_

" _It's a lot to explain." He sighed. "Let me get you out of here first and then I'll tell you everything, okay?"_

 _He could tell she was still perplexed but it didn't take her long to comply. Once she nodded, he picked her up bridal style. They were in the forest before long, fleeing quickly, when Percy stopped them._

 _She didn't allow him time to ask any questions. She simply held one hand out in defense. His face showed nothing short of the anger he still felt towards her._

" _We're family," she reminded him, softening her eyes. "I couldn't let you do it alone."_

 _He didn't have a moment to show his gratitude before others were shouting at them. He felt the grip tighten around his neck, looking down to see Amelia bury her head deeper into his chest. He could hear her heart speed up within the process. He and Percy shared a look of understanding before said people began charging towards them. They started at full speed, but a loud pop rang through the air, sending Percy to the ground behind him. She'd been hit._

" _Go!" she cried, holding her stomach, the place which the bullet traveled through. "Get out of here!"_

 _It was too late. Before he could start again, Amelia was ripped from his grasp and a large sac was thrown over his head. The liquid tossed against his arms then felt like fire. It was vervain._

 _He woke sometime later to the sound of trembling. His vision came up blurry at first with his head spinning and the weakness in his limbs greater than anything he'd ever known. It took a matter of minutes rather than seconds to regain focus. Once he did, he looked for any symbols that could indicate his whereabouts. Finding the plaque across from him, he realized he was in a jail cell._

 _To the side, he found the source of the trembling. In another prison cell sat Percy holding Amelia tightly in her arms. She seemed to be rubbing back her loose hair and cooing words of encouragement into her ears._

 _He flew forward then, ignoring the barrier of the metal bars between them. She met him halfway. He held her cheeks in his hands, wiping her tears away._

" _I'm so sorry, princess." She wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. "I'm so sorry."_

" _F-Finn," she coughed his name out through her sobs. "W-what is happening? I n-need answers, n-now!"_

 _He looked to Percy, the blood of the healed gunshot wound very noticeable on her satin dress. She nodded in approval at his request to reveal everything._

 _Amelia continued, pointing back to Percy, "She was shot with a gun and now she's h-healed… A-and they had these men that were screaming at us w-while you were a-asleep… A-And their eyes…"_

" _I will explain everything. I just need you to try and calm down first." He felt her staggered breath against his palms. "Please, can you do that for me?"_

" _I-It just d-doesn't make any s-sense." She cried._

" _I promise I'll try to make it," he replied. "Shhh," he held her as tight as the bars would allow without hurting her._

 _She gave up, nodding._

" _Amelia, everything that you know about me is going to change. Are you ready for that?"_

She sighed, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. "Okay, I'm ready." Her gaze remained out the windshield, never even for a second turning to meet his. "So, Friday night…"

Holding back was never his strong suit, especially not when he was around her. He wouldn't start now.

"Ask me anything," he offered.

He was taken aback by her humorless chuckle.

"I'm doing the talking?" she shook her head, looking down. "You kissed me, remember?"

"And, you're not happy about it, I presume." He studied her features, losing a bit of confidence he was fighting so hard to keep.

"I don't know what to think about it," she sighed, still refusing to look at him. "We were drunk and I didn't stay behind long enough to collect your reasoning."

"I probably wouldn't have been able to give you one at the time," he shrugged in admittance.

"And, now?" Her eyes widened.

"I'm sober, my head is clear, and I know what I want." He watched her take him into her peripheral vision, fear clouding her beautiful brown irises.

"So, I wasn't daydreaming."

He shook his head.

"It wasn't the alcohol crowding your judgement?"

He shook his head.

"And, you weren't horny, looking for a quick, drunken hook-up?"

He laughed this time, but shook his head again.

"My head, nor any other _body_ _part_ ," he paused for emphasis, "influenced my actions."

He watched her eyes flicker over to his anxiously as he grabbed her hand closest to him. Raising it, he rested her palm against his chest. He allowed her a few moments to take in the beats, as fast as they were going right now.

"Everything came from here."

If his eyes weren't deceiving him, he watched a tear trickle down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, yanking her hand from his grasp. "No," she whispered. "Finn…"

"You're different from everyone else here, Rachel." He watched her turn away again. "You're different from every other girl here. You're better. You're maybe even a little better than me."

"Don't say that, Finn." She sighed, shaking her head. "Just, no…"

"Why not?" he demanded. Her stubbornness tugged at his nerves a little more than it usually did.

"Because it's a horrible excuse of a cliché and you're lying to yourself when you say it." She spit the words with fire. "There's nothing different about me. Nothing good, anyways."

"Gosh, Rachel, you're always so freaking down on yourself!" he exclaimed. "Why can't you see things the way that I do?"

"And what way is that exactly, Finn? Huh?" she asked, tossing a piece of her hair in the air like it was trash. "What is there to see?"

"You're perfect," she continued. "You make the grades, you wear the jacket, you and your family resemble the Greek gods… Everyone loves you."

"Not everyone," he murmured. If she heard it, she ignored it.

"Any girl in this town would fall to your feet without a second thought. You have _options._ The cheerleaders love you, the dance team girls are absolutely mesmerized, maybe even some band geeks talk…" he noticed how she rolled her eyes at the last bit.

"What makes it better is that you're not shallow. You have a personality to go along with your face. You have feelings, you care. You have a heart. And, that's what draws everyone in…"

"And then, there's me. Do you honestly not see the giant gap the way that I do? Nothing about me is appealing. I'm awkward, moody, rude... I always say the wrong things at the wrong time. I hate people. I hate everything, really. And, my looks…There are none. Well, nothing too impressive to pull someone like you in. And, my nose-"

He looked at her with complete disbelief. This disappointment he felt almost drew him close enough to tears. The way _his_ Amelia talked herself down, lower than a dog… It did more than angered him. He wondered if Nathaniel drilled this into her brain or if this was of her own doing over time.

"Your nose," he repeated, stealing the conversation from her. Placing his hand under her chin, he turned her head to face him. "It's the best part about you. But, I already told you that on Friday."

Moving his hands, they were now caressing her cheeks. Moving forward, he softly placed a kiss against the tip of her nose. She tried to fight his grasp, putting her hands over his. "Finn, what are you-"

He didn't move.

"Then, there's your skin…" he moved his hands, tracing his fingers against her face. " Every time I touch it, it's like I'm lying in a bed of feathers; the softest to touch and so clear and beautiful at the same time. Your complexion alone reminds me of no one other than Athena herself. Well, with the exception that your beauty doubles hers by like a million times." He smirked. His lips met her cheeks when he leaned forward again. Her resistance weakened the more he spoke.

"Your smell," he continued. "It's one of the things that pull me in the most. I probably sound really creepy, but you smell amazing. It's like it's not even a describable thing. It's a 'you had to be there' type of scent. It nearly sent me over the edge Friday night. And Saturday and Sunday when we were apart, it was all that I could think of."

He took a deep inhalation, his nose nowhere near failing to be completely satisfied.

She sighed, "Finn…"

He ignored her. "Your eyes are an entirely different story. It's the first thing I noticed when I met you. See, I've been training myself to not stare into them for too long. Somedays, I try not to even glance in them. Because the minute you get a good look, you get lost. Drowning is the biggest risk looking into the brown of those beautiful eyes, and the worst part? There's no life guard on duty to save my heart."

She closed them then, letting a few tears escape. He lifted his thumbs to wipe them away. "You don't know what this is doing to me," she cried. "You have to stop."

He didn't. "Your hands are like diamonds. Treasures, more so. They're these perfect jewels, beautiful emeralds that anyone would travel from across the globe, kill, or pay large sums just to hold. I could sit here forever and a day, just feeling the cool touch against my own. The way they moved up and down my back, the way they caressed my face on the ground of that damn graveyard-" He had to stop himself. Pulling her hand to his face, he placed a kiss against her middle knuckle. "I'll never be able to get enough."

It seemed as if she were holding her breath. The tomato-red in her face confused him a bit. He didn't know if it were a flush or the continuous stream of tears that soaked her cheeks.

"My conclusion is your lips. They're two perfect cushions that push and pull at every temptation I hold deep within. I'd rather die from lack of oxygen than part from them. They keep my eyes fixated when you speak, and when they're against mine, I'm in a different universe. A universe where there are fireworks every which-way you turn. Don't even get me started on the things I feel when they're against my skin…"

Without a second thought, he dove in. The moment their lips met, everything he just explained became an understatement. Next to her smell, it was another thing he couldn't explain. He was exhilarated beyond bliss. She was the cure to more than just breathing. She was the cure to his life and he couldn't understand how she couldn't see that.

This time, no mistakes were made. He wasn't going against his judgement. This was more than just perfect timing. Still, the moment he felt the tug, his heart sunk by a million notches. She pulled away, her breath staggering.

"Rachel," he begged.

"I'm more than appreciative for the words that you spoke, Finn. But, that doesn't cover for the fact that I'm ugly on the inside."

"That's a very cruel joke," he hissed. "You're beautiful both ways."

"Really?" she argued. "Whenever have I given you that impression? Because I know there are just so many good memories in your head of my _kind_ heart." She laughed with a hint of mock.

"Your personality is one that I've never experienced in all my years of living and one that I will never again for as long as I shall." He informed her. "Maybe I should start with the things I love most about you. Your passion runs deeper than anything. People often become intimidated by its strength, hating what they can't understand. But, it's still very unique and one of your best qualities. Your talent amazes me. The way you can sit in front of something as complex as a piano and just compose the most random but extremely beautiful melody surpasses me every time. Your writing could earn you fortunes if you didn't already have it. Your skills with analyzing literature, your intelligence, your fascination with history… You're compassionate, whether you realize it or not. The way you see nature, the way you love and appreciate it, it's unreal…"

"Last, your laughter… It's like sometimes when you're around me, you turn into this five year old child. There's not a single care left in the world. You let everything to the wind and just become whoever you mind tells you to be. To hell with the consequences, the thoughts of another person… If I'm being totally honest, I get really jealous sometimes. I only wish I can be that way..."

"And, now, you know…" he whispered.

She wiped her eyes, "know what?"

"All of the reasons that lead me to fall in love with you." He couldn't ignore the way his voice caught in his throat. He choked over the emotion, desperate to not let it show too much.

She shook her head violently, "take it back, Finn."

"What?" he asked as if she just said something stupid.

"You can't," she cried. "You can't fall in love with me."

"Well, I did." He crossed his arms.

"Finn, I told you how I felt Friday." She reminded him. "I don't believe in that kind of stuff. It's just not who I am. It's all a lie."

"No, it's not!" she jumped back as his voice roared through the small space. "If it was a lie, I wouldn't be feeling this way, Rachel. If it was a lie, my pulse wouldn't be racing this fast. If it was a lie, I wouldn't have given a damn to have said all of those things that I just did…"

"Whatever happened to being friends?" she tried to divert his attention, "I was really good at that."

"I got tired of the facades."

"The essence of time?" she thought of something else, adding to the distraction.

He hated the way it sounded like she was trying to talk him out of it, like he had a choice. Maybe things would be different if he hadn't erased her memories of him all those years ago… That was for another time, though. The mere thought of all that went down that night made his stomach churn. Maybe he deserved this form of torture...

"I mean, we've hardly known each other for a month, let alone two…"

"That didn't seem to stop Romeo and Juliet," he reminded.

"Exactly, and look how that turned out."

"I feel like you're trying to talk me out of this, Rachel." He sighed.

"I am," she confessed. "You're not being logical."

"Yes I am, Rachel." He retaliated. "It's the only thing I'm being right now. It's you who isn't."

"I'm just not capable, okay?" she shook her head, trying to conjure up another excuse. Finn knew it would be crap like all the rest. He didn't know how much longer he could sit through this failed after failed attempt to convince her.

She rolled her tear filled eyes. "You deserve someone who will be able to give you the things that you need. Someone who will make you happy, who will hold your hand, who will stay on the phone with you all night, who will give you their heart without any extra baggage, who will marry you, who will give you kids…" "I can't do that."

"You're scared," he took her off-guard, ignoring every single one of her suggestions.

"What?"

"Something happened to you. In your past, like you started to tell me Friday but cut yourself off, something horrible happened. Something horrible that I don't know about and may never… I don't care. All the same, it's scarred you some type of way. And now, you're scared to allow yourself the chance to open up your heart to me because you've built that guard back up so high and you don't think you can handle it if it came tumbling back down again."

He watched her red face curl with emotion as she began to thrash against her seat. Three loud bangs were thrown against the steering wheel before her face fell into her hands. He sat for a moment, taking in the sounds of her broken cries. She jumped when his hand found its way to her back.

"The thing about trust is that it has to be earned. I know that. And, I'm sure that yours has dwindled down ever since. So, to make things easier for you, I want you to know that you have my heart now." She stopped to look at him.

"I'm going to give mine to you first. I'm going to place all of my trust in you, first." He took her hands again. "I'm not an idiot. I don't care what you tell me, Rachel. You can come up with any excuse you'd like but you won't fool me. You're more than capable of feeling your own love and happiness again. The two things are just so foreign to you because your past has left a hole in your chest, keeping them away for so long."

"If you give me a chance, I'll help you get it back. You'll know those two things again, along with all of the other things that come along with it. You just have to trust me and give your heart to me in return. However long it takes. Call it the reintroduction, if you will."

She thought to herself for a long time, her tear filled eyes becoming fixed out the windshield. It appeared as if her eyes were following the cars that flew by on the main highway just down the street from the school's parking lot.

The silence stressed him out. He wanted, more than anything in the world, to know what she was thinking. Was she considering things? Was she thinking of another excuse? Would she turn him down and make the situation more hopeless for him? The possibilities ran around his brain like a fast roach, nearly impossible to squish dead with a shoe.

Finally, after what seemed like a century of waiting, she turned to him again. She calmed down by then, her face returning to the brilliant pale marble. "Is today's school day out of the question?"

"Screw school."

"Then, c'mon," she put the Ferrari into reverse. She backed out of the tightly crammed space, mostly due to poor teenage parking.

"Where are we going?" he was confused.

"You want my trust? You're going to get it. What you do afterwards is entirely up to you. Just, don't say that I didn't warn you."

He gripped the door on his side, physically feeling the car zoom down the crowded streets and highways. Glancing over did nothing to help him. The speedometer reached 120. It wasn't until they reached a long, winding road enveloped on both sides by the forest that she slowed down. Probably feeling confident that the road was empty, she jerked the wheel. The car then performed a 180 spin, the tire screeching almost ear piercing. They came to a complete stop, perfectly parked on the side of the road.

He watched her fling from the car as if she had no time to waste. Seconds later, she was at his side, pulling on the door. "Let's go."

He kept perfect pace with her fast walking. It took them about 20 minutes before they were in the dead center of the forest. With his supernatural hearing, he knew the falls weren't much further. She turned to face him.

"You've given me no other choice," she shook her head. "I can't make any other excuses."

He sunk his hands into the pockets of his letterman, looking down at her with pure curiosity. "What are you talking about?"

"You're so convinced that I'm good. And, since I can't come up with anything else to turn you away like you should, I'm just going to have to show you."

"Show me what?"

"Who I really am, "she stepped backwards a few steps, aligning herself perfectly with a branch above, "The real reason why you can't love me."

Gaining momentum in her crouched position on the forest floor, Finn watched as she leapt upwards. Her movements were graceful, her speed increasing the further she got up the tree.

He wouldn't lie. Instantly, he became amazed. He stood there like a little boy seeing the circus for the first time. She was taken away from him before they could get to this stage in their relationship. He'd never been given the chance to see this side of her. It reminded him of the first few years of his immortality. He felt indestructible, alive, free, etc. The way she looked right now, swinging from tree to tree, proved that she felt the same way.

To any other human she would be nothing more than a gust of wind, but his eyes followed her around the large vicinity. He felt pride, taking in the image of what he'd created. She looked exhilarated. Like Tarzan, she worked the branches like a pro.

One move, in particular, caught his attention. On the highest of the tree above him, she took the branch in her hands like a gymnast, swinging around like a Ferris wheel. He crossed his arms, smiling up at her. However, just as quick as the moment began, it came to haste end. If his eyes hadn't been able to catch up with her, he would've jumped when she landed onto the branch right above him. Swinging down, she was back on the ground in front of him.

Her face was different this time. Instead of the lively look she sported moments earlier in the air, instead of the everyday flawless canvas that he was so used to studying, it was much a darker look. She smirked when he stepped back. With her cheeks curled upwards, she looked almost murderous. Large, harsh black veins appeared under her expanded black eyes and pointy, bleached white fangs emerged from her lips.

She spoke, never returning to normal. "Now you know. This is who I am."

She walked closer to him, "The real barrier, and the real reason why someone like you can't love someone like me."

Was it horrible that he decided to play along for a moment? He guiltily gained pleasure, watching her move forward, stalking her "prey". Fascination crept inside of him, seeing the many things that she'd picked up from him while they were together, even if she weren't conscious of the fact. He remembered playing this same scaring game the day after she'd been turned. The only difference, when he did it, they had sex afterwards.

He allowed her to back him into a nearby tree. With her teeth more apparent, she wrapped a hand around his neck, applying gentle pressure. "I'm a monster."

"No, you're not." He replied, causing her hand to squeeze a little.

"You haven't heard what I am yet, Finn."

"It doesn't matter to me. I still love you."

"I'm a _vampire._ "

"And still so very beautiful and yourself," he ignored her. "You can't scare me off that easily."

She growled then, throwing her head back and exposing her full set of pointed canines. He didn't flinch. He didn't move a muscle, "Still not scared."

"Finn, don't try and be brave."

He laughed, taking her off-guard. Her grip tightened. He coughed before saying, "It's a little egotistical of you to just assume that you're really that scary."

"Do you need to be further convinced?" she asked through her teeth.

"No," he shrugged his pinned down shoulders. "But, you might…"

Before she could even become confused or ask him what he meant, he grabbed the hand around his neck and flipped her around. Now, with Rachel pinned against the tree, he looked down at her with black veins under his widened _red_ eyes and pointed teeth of his own.

She looked up at him with horror and utter shock.

"I'm not scared of you. But, it's not because I'm an adrenaline-junkie or some pathetic over-fascinated human teenage boy. It's because I've known about you since I saw you that moment in the hall on the first day of school."

"I-I don't u-understand," she stuttered.

"If anyone's the monster, it's me…" he shook his head, releasing her. Clearing his face of the gruesome details, he looked to the ground.

"Rachel, I'm a vampire too. And-"

"And?" she was trying to recover from the shock, her now-normal eyes still widened. "And what?"

"And, I still love you."

* * *

 **As I'm sure all of you are aware and have experienced the same effect, yesterday influenced me tremendously. The 13th of July, four years without our hero..With that being said, i tried my hardest to wrap this chapter up and post it then. Unfortunately, midnight beat me to the punch. So, here i am, a day later with the same intentions. This chapter is dedicated to our Canadian and the everlasting legacy that he's left behind in his spot on Earth.**

 **I love you, and even though i never had the chance to meet you face-to-face, you've done an unspeakable amount of things to change my life for the better. Your heart reached out and touched all of our lives in a way that no other ever will. There aren't enough words to express my gratitude for your existence. A beautiful soul, a remarkable influence, a life gone too soon... Rest in peace, Cory. You are more than missed.**


	16. The Beauty Of The Dark

**Chapter 15**

The irony had increased to whole new volumes. It'd almost become a killer. So much so that she wondered if she were in the middle of some sick dream. If so, maybe some very good explanation would find her soon. As of now, she came up blank.

There was nothing about this that made sense. Everything she thought she knew suddenly became a lie the moment her back fell against the tree. Right in front of her eyes she watched the sweet and human boy-next-door, who she thought was too good for her, turn into a replication of herself. More so, he seemed different. His features were more ferocious and his eyes were _red_. How could that be? She'd never come across anything like it in her many years of living.

Finn Hudson was a vampire. Even now after two hours of knowing, she couldn't wrap her mind around it. This would change things. She knew this the moment he made the move to join her on the very tip of the tallest tree above them.

There they were, sitting in complete silence as she dissected her mind. She thought through everything, starting from the moment she'd been changed. She wondered if there were other things she'd missed. Or was this just the start? The turn of a new leaf? She dismissed the pun, lowering her head.

He didn't say a word. That's one reason she was grateful. He allowed her time to process everything. He only looked to the land beneath them, waiting for her to address his presence if she had to guess.

She felt guilty in a way. She knew that she was still being selfish. Her silence seemed to affect him majorly. His face said it all as it always had. She wished she could offer him something. Maybe even just the slightest of a nod… But nothing ever came.

He poured his heart out to her. He revealed so much of himself only to get nothing in return. She sighed, thinking of their time in her car this morning. Everything he told her, every time he touched her…He hit the nail on the head, whether he realized or not. He hit her in her nonexistent heart.

It felt like the more she tried to turn him away, the more accurate his words became. His "trust and love" speech was the turning point. She couldn't argue anymore. The words he spoke about her, no one had ever said anything like that to her before. It sort of…shocked her.

It was what she'd always wanted. From the time she was old enough for her mother to read fairytales to her, love was a dream. She was a child, she was human; she still had hope. She didn't care the simplicity in it. To be adored was all she asked.

Somehow in being served the wrong end of that stick, she lost all of those dreams. Her expectations were quite literally beaten out of her. That flickering light of hope turned into a dark cloud of resentment.

Now, almost two hundred years later, she looked to the person at her side and wondered if there was a purpose to any of this. Were things falling into a pre-determined place? Was it intended that she go through years of pain, malice, and heartache? Was there a yellow brick road somewhere leading to the vampire sitting next to her? Was Finn that last piece to the long-uncompleted puzzle?

She became wary. The tall, brick, and electric-fenced guard in her chest buzzed. It couldn't be that easy. There was no way. She'd gone through too much. She'd been set on the idea for so long that none of this would ever be a possibility again. Now, her brain was spitting different rhymes at her? The jumble was getting to be so big. She was confused.

At least one thing was apparent, the reason in which he fell in love with her so quickly. He was from a different time period. She wondered how she hadn't noticed the accent until now, his elegance. Even Percy, who she hardly knew, had a foreign ring in her voice. She now remembered her, joking as she handed over the joint underneath the bleachers Friday night.

" _Enjoy, princess."_

His voice was different, however. It was a mixture, or a fading, more so… There seemed to be two different origins. American, being the strongest half for sure, and… _Italian?_

Yes, she thought. That's exactly what it was. It was hardly noticeable. If she wasn't thinking so hard about it now, she would have missed it. But, it was there. Deep and smooth as silk, his voice was one similar to Romeo's. She wondered how old he really was.

He shifted an inch on the branch, sending her mind off its track again. This time, she thought of him in _her_ time. Without guilt or any trace of disgust, she thought of a life she'd been assuming wasn't possible anymore. With a suit as neat and lavishing as Nathaniel's had always been, she watched him graze down the long gardens. Then, she pictured herself. In the long purple dress, she exploded into giggles as he chased her down the pathways. It'd only taken a moment or so to be found. Then, she'd been captured. Lifting her into his warm arms, she watched him spin her into circles. Her feet were then on the ground. Last came the kiss. The familiarity of his lips only made the dream more vivid. She had to escape before she became obvious.

She resorted to her family. She hadn't even considered them until now. What would they say about this? Would they approve? Would they ban her from seeing him? She felt the tug at the core of her chest.

She didn't care how complicated things were at the moment. She knew it'd never be the same way if she were with any other person. Her and Finn, they had _something_. She just didn't know how that _something_ could be described. The only thing she knew, now more than ever, was that if they were to lose that _something_ there'd be no return. She'd be lost forever. No saving grace, no nothing.

Wow, there it was. Maybe it was something she didn't want to admit. All the same, she just figured it out. She cared about Finn Hudson. And, not just in the friendly sense, though that would still be pretty impressive to admit for someone like her.

In the short amount of time that they knew each other, she was drawing more and more to his presence. She found herself revolving around him like some other planet in the Milky Way Galaxy. Without even realizing it, he opened her eyes to what life could really be like outside of the broken walls. He'd kept his promise before even making it. The doors to happiness and trust were slowly creaking open before her eyes.

The pain of the hole in her chest radiated, not knowing how to process any of this. Surrender was not an easy thing, especially when you've only known one thing for so long. She knew this. Yet, the potential and promise of things were calling her name. It was like the luring bright light on the other side. It made all of the fears and doubts in her head nothing more than the "death" warning on almost every medication bottle.

Looking to the person sitting beside her now, all fears vanished. She studied his face as he studied the mountains across from them. She didn't even feel the guilt she knew that she should, brushing off his heart-pour and trying to scare him out of it. She didn't see the scary vampire with red eyes. She didn't see a monster. She didn't see the uncertainties. She only saw him. With the small smile beginning to tug at the sides of his lips, she saw Finn.

And, he saw her. She'd been caught in her admiration gaze. He didn't say anything, however. He only focused on her lips and then on her eyes, the half-smile never seeming to fade.

"Will you please explain it all to me now?" she finally severed the silence with her shaky voice.

He nodded, "Of course."

"And I'm not talking about some half-ass description." He chuckled once she pointed her finger in his direction. "I want the whole shindig, from birth to death and then from rebirth to now."

He seemed to be thinking to himself for a moment, before murmuring something unintelligible.

"Where to begin?" he finally asked himself.

"Age might be a good start." She nodded, offering a suggestion. She held her breath, anticipating the answer she'd get in return.

"Because the mere thought of hanging out with an old man is just that repulsing, huh?" he laughed.

"Just tell me," she nudged him with an elbow, failing to hide her own smile. "What's your story?"

He straightened out his face, becoming serious as he trained his view on the mountains again. "I'm five- hundred and twenty-five years old."

Okay, so maybe that was enough to knock the wind out of her. She looked to him with shock in her eyes. He was much older than she lead on.

"There's not much I really know about my early life," he began. "I mean, I've been told different things over my human years."

He took her confused face as an indication to further explain. "I wasn't exactly aware of who my birth parents were until I turned six." "I was born in 1492, I think. That's what the math says, anyways."

Breathing wasn't even an option at this point.

"For the first few years of my life, I was raised in a convent in Florence by a group of nuns. It was nice, I guess." She watched him chuckle. "Very strict, but that's just how things were then. There's really not much I can remember. However, I do recall this really big field."

She watched his face light up, much like hers did when she recalled earlier periods. She listened intently and fell into the fascination. Everything played out in her head.

He chuckled a bit more before continuing, "I think I burned energy I didn't even have, running up and down those hills every day. Then, there were the fenced-in cattle that I loved to play with. Nothing gave me more joy than brushing the tails of the horses or milking the cows. I always found something to keep my little self occupied."

He took a deep breath before straightening his expression again. "A little after the time of my fifth birthday, this man started coming around. He appeared to be in his late twenties, early thirties. I was still at such a young age. Conversations were being kept behind closed doors. I couldn't comprehend trouble. I always assumed he was another of the many friendly visitors."

"He never fully explained things to me until I grew older."

"So, this man was your father?" Rachel asked.

"Biologically," he commented bitterly, giving her the feeling that things were more complicated than her relationship with Joseph.

"I hardly knew the man. One day, we're all having dinner and he's asking me all these questions about myself. The next, he's climbing into my window in the middle of the night, asking me to pack my things and making promises of a better life. I didn't know much of the world outside. Of course I was going to take the bait."

"He snuck you out?" She was suddenly so angry at a person she didn't even know.

"Surprisingly, he didn't take me out of Florence. It was far enough not to be found." He sighed, crinkling a leaf in his palm. "Everything I knew changed so quickly."

"His word is the only source of information I have of my origin. He eventually sat me down and told me everything. He met my mother in the streets one night. It was never anything serious, however. She was described as a bit of a harlot. He was a peasant man, searching for food when she found him. He told me that she was drawn to his looks."

"So, arrogance runs in your family? Good to know," Rachel joked before Finn sent her a hard look. She shrugged her shoulders guilty. "Sorry, continue."

"Maybe he was a little too thorough in his description. After that night, I knew exactly how I was conceived."

"Oh," Rachel chuckled. "That was probably horrifying."

"Not at the time," he shrugged. "I wasn't really paying attention to any of that. I just wanted to know more about her."

"Did you get a name? Did he tell you what happened to her?" She was more curious now. She'd been with her own mother for some time before she died and there were still things that she didn't know about the woman.

"Her name was Caterina. He told me that she was rebelling against her family's control. They had it all mapped out for her. She was even set to marry a man just a few months after their encounter. Needless to say, the wedding never came. My father got her pregnant and she died giving birth to me."

"That's horrible," she whispered with remorse.

He was indifferent. "She never told my father about me. He returned to the same place a year or so after, and got word of her death. People were viciously gossiping of how I was some killer baby. That's how he found out about me. He started his search shortly after."

"I remember him crying in my arms in that small room. He said the moment he saw me the relief almost crippled him. All of his fears were cleared. He said I was the perfect hybrid of the two. There was no doubt that I was his." "' _Mio figlio'_ he cried over and over again."

Whatever was in the hole of her chest halted the moment he spoke those two words. The faded Italian accent increased in fluency and she was easily left with her mouth agape. It took her a while just to remember what they were speaking of beforehand.

"What?" he asked, studying the look she didn't know she was projecting. She stumbled trying to regain focus.

"I just never really h-heard you speak like that," she ran a hand through her hair, before playing with her fingers. "I mean you told me that you were Italian, I guess I just never thought you were still fluent."

He chuckled, taking her hand in his. "I guess there's a lot about me that you've yet to find out, huh? Maybe I should start with my name."

"Your name?" her eyes widened. She then realized that there really was so much that she still needed to learn about him. "You're not Finn Hudson?"

"It's changed a lot over the years for obvious reasons, of course." He explained. "I guess Finn just stuck better than all of the others. I've used it three times already and prefer it over any other, including the one my mother gave me before she died."

"Which is?" she pushed.

"Francesco Cellini," he playfully held out his hand for her to shake.

"Wow," she was tongue tied. "Hi."

"Hi," he smiled watching her nearly fall over the branch they were perched upon. His face became serious again. She knew that he would continue with the story, so she listened carefully to gain more information.

"Her parents were opposed to the idea of me at the time of my birth. They thought I'd be nothing more than a bastard child. Then, after she'd died, they couldn't even look at me. So, they sent me away to the closest convent they knew. They arranged a meeting with my father once they'd heard that I was back into his custody. Somehow, they were so thrilled to see the boy that I'd become. From the earliest age, the nuns taught me etiquette, posture, proper grammar… That's all it took to get back into their good graces. We weren't even in their home for a few hours and they were already planning my future for me. See, Caterina was their only daughter, so they needed an heir to expand their riches."

"They buttered me up, telling me all about the woman that was my mother. They said her dying wish was that I have their last name, Cellini. She expected the full potential I gave off while in her stomach. They said that she wanted me to have the life I would've if she would've been alive to give it to me. She wanted me to be much more of a man than the peasant that my father was. They said I was destined for greatness. Of great honor, they called it."

"I couldn't really tell if they were being sincere or just trying to insult him face-to-face for impregnating their daughter. Either way, it didn't sit well with Marco."

"Your father?

"My father," he nodded. He chuckled cruelly then, throwing a large stick out as far as it could go.

"He became a different person after that dinner." He sighed. "He learned to resent me. His light taps on the hand turned into violent blows to the stomach, I was no longer allowed to run around and play outside. Instead, he kept me locked in my room most of the day. He fed me smaller amounts of food, took away some of my covers during the winter. At one point, I was honestly convinced that he was trying to kill me."

"What did you do?" she asked.

"The only thing an eight year old kid could do, try my best to survive. I was pretty optimistic considering." He smiled, looking out to the gray day. "It was then that I developed my love for literature. I'm pretty sure I read the same books over about a million times."

"I got too confident." He laughed. "I created all these poems and stories in my head. With no way to write them out, they floated for months at a time. Then, one day, my father suddenly loosened up. He'd just gotten home from a long day at work when he walked into my room struggling with something very large and heavy in his arms. It was an easel with a canvas on it."

"He walked over to my spot on the floor. I was terrified. But, instead of swinging, or even touching me, he tossed a pouch at me and whispered, 'lavoro'. Many different and very expensive paints sat in the pouch. I didn't know the first thing to say. I knew he couldn't afford it. To this day, I still don't know how he acquired them."

"I found my outlet. All the poems and stories in my head suddenly came to life in front of my eyes."

"In what, colorful circles and triangles?" she joked. "Was scribbling a thing back then?"

"Funny," he rolled his eyes. "You know, you're lack of confidence in me is doing wonders to my ego."

"I wasn't aware of my talent. It wasn't until I finished my first portrait that I realized its significance. It took a while to work on, but was very interesting to see the image staring back at me. The effect it had on my father differed."

"Did he not approve of the gift he gave you?" Rachel narrowed her eyes. The more she heard of the man, the more she disliked him.

"The exact opposite, actually." He turned to face her. "As it was an outlet for me, it was one for him as well. The reasoning behind it was very different, however. He saw my newly-found talent as a portal to fortune and success."

"I became his slave, then. He spread word that I was a mastermind in the arts. He'd auction me off. Anyone would name a figure or an image and then I was expected to paint it. He'd collect the money and then we'd be on to the next person. It was very unnerving. Before I could find a passion in it, it became more of a job. I had deadlines to meet and rest was not an option."

"We did this charade for about four years. Then, he grew greedier. He wanted more than the sums we were bringing in by the week. He wanted more recognition. To show him off more than me, I guess. He wanted people to know that the peasant previously ridiculed had a major break-through."

"He brought me all over Italy to look for work. Literally, we'd jump from city to city every time a painting was finished. That's when I was introduced to the big dogs."

"The big dogs?" she raised an eyebrow.

"The painters that went down in history, the painters you have probably heard of," he told her. "By the age of fourteen I was taking part in countless apprenticeships."

"Surprisingly, I liked this more. I felt _free_. Of course, Marco did all of the background work. He dealt with the money and the artists. Sort of like my manager, if you will. But me, I was only expected to paint. Time no longer was an issue. I got the chance to actually enjoy it. The only pressure I had was the intimidation."

"Intimidation?"

"I was working with many known people, Rachel. I didn't want to disappoint."

"Once I became used to it, it got easier. Some were complete assholes who only cared for the money; others were very wise and passionate about their projects. Some were older, some were younger, and some were even the same age as me. A lot of advice was also given to me." He smiled at his dangling feet. "I'll never be able to forget the things Leonardo told me."

Her breath caught in her throat. "Le-Leonardo… As in Leonardo da Vinci? As in the _Mona Lisa_?"

"Yeah," he smiled at her amazement. "He was a really wise dude. Unfortunately, I didn't get to work on that piece with him."

"When you said big dogs, I thought you meant like unheard-of artists in a museum somewhere. I didn't think you m-meant-"

His amusement increased. "There were a lot of them that I met."

He started down a long list of names. Some didn't ring a bell, others her eyes widened in more than recognition. "There's a mock painting above one of the couches in your home, actually. The small lilies in the water, those were my rendition on the original."

She knew his head was getting bigger by the moment. She wished she could clear her expression. She just couldn't find a way.

"Raphael, Titian, Dosso Dossi…" his smile failed to waver. "You may know what history tells you, but you never truly know someone until you meet them. And, let me tell you, Michelangelo puts my playful arrogance to shame."

"Okay," she really was trying to process all of this new information, "So, the person sitting next to me not only met Leonardo da Vinci, but Michelangelo too… Great…"

"We only had one encounter," he put his hands up as if it were no big deal. "He was actually pretty impressed with me. He called me his 'young one'. But, he refused to pay my father the amount that he was demanding, so Marco pulled me before we could advance to another of his works."

His smile widened, "Although I suppose that's not such a bad thing. Heights weren't really my thing when I was human. Depending on my father's sanity, I'm sure he would've had me at the top of the Sistine Chapel painting the ceiling with him."

"All cool as the experiences were, things became bleak after that. I grew older, the jobs got boring. Nothing improved. If anything, it only murdered my self-esteem. I felt as if I were far from the person that my mother wanted me to become. If anything, I was the peasant now."

"What did you do?"

"I was well past sixteen when puberty came."

"Puberty," she chuckled. "Out of all your troubles like not being able to paint the angels in the Sistine Chapel and having to work with assholes, puberty slowed you down?"

He ignored her, "I grew up, gained _hormones._ " She knew where he was going with this. "My looks became more dominant. It was perfect timing, too. I took advantage."

"This was when my rebellious stage began. I swear Marco caught whiplash. One day I was painting, the next I was collecting all my bags and bailing. He lost it on me. Beat me to a pulp, almost. He spit at me on the floor afterwards and said 'like father, like son.'"

"Once I got out I spent another year in Venice. Then, some way still unknown to me, I found my way to France. It was a bit overwhelming, I have to admit. There were so many people doing so many different things. It was like a whole new world. I was only a seventeen year old boy who had no idea what to do next."

"Luckily, I made a friend while I was there. Antonio Baldini was his name. We were the same age and both fresh from Italy. The connection was instant. He had a place to stay and I didn't turn down the offer. We were there for two years. And, in those two years-Well, I'm not going to tell you about that."

"Wait, what?" Rachel demanded, almost on the edge of the branch. "What do you mean you're not going to tell me?"

"I became a bad person, Rachel. So different from the guy I am now. I don't want you to have to hear about the things we did. You don't deserve it."

"When I asked for the whole story, I meant it," she reminded him. "Besides, you've probably done no worse than I have."

"I'm talking about when I was still human, though." He sighed. "I did these things while I was still human."

"I can handle it, Finn." She placed a hand over his. "Just, tell me. I want to know who you are, the good and the _bad_."

He sighed. "I got bored after a while. I was out of work and there wasn't much that interested me in the room we stayed in. I decided to go out and try to find entertainment." "I grew selfish and arrogant. As I walked through the town every day, I realized that I had many admirers. I thought that that may keep me occupied for the time being."

"Once I discovered sex, it became a sort of high. I needed it, any hour of the day. It made me feel good. Distracted me from the troubles I faced late at night. Antonio got in on it too."

"So, that's your dark past?" Rachel giggled, taking him off-guard. "You turned gay?"

"What?" he was confused until he realized where he'd lead her. "No!"

"We came up with a business. We'd pay girls to have sex with money we stole from Royals traveling on the roads. It was risky, but somehow it worked. We even profited from it. Some of the girls had such a good time; they felt the need to reward us in return. The whole thing lasted for a good year or so until we finally got caught."

"The royals traveled heavy with jewels and coins. We took advantage of their stupidity every time they rolled through town. This time, however, was different. It was late at night and there were no guards present. It presented itself as a win-win, we were sure of it. Putting our own hand-made masks over our faces, we held our knives to the horses. What we didn't expect was for one of them to be trained in sword fighting. Before we could even think of escaping, he ripped our masks off and we were exposed."

"I made a decision that night that I still come to regret." He nonchalantly laughed. "Like father, like son…"

"What happened?" She placed a hand to his back, rubbing his shoulder. "You can tell me. No judgements."

"Some things had happened to me before this." He lowered his head further. "There was a girl that I was involved with. I thought I loved her."

"You thought?"

"I thought that's what I was feeling at the time." He looked at her funny. "I didn't know real love until many years later."

She wondered if he was talking about her right now, or some other love he'd had before. She didn't think it right to ask. She didn't want to come off the wrong way. He was opening up enough to her already and she was extremely grateful.

"She was a prospect. She offered a large sum of money for someone to take her virtue before her fiancé did. After then, our meetings became an occasional thing. She was 18 and very beautiful. I instantly became attached. We met a few more times before she was telling me that I was to father her child."

He couldn't have a kid, could he?

"In that moment, I knew that I had to act for her. I had to act for our future. The last thing I wanted to do was end up like my father. There were people on the royal horse. The guy who'd just exposed us and his wife. They knew our identities and I knew that they'd go back and report us. So, the first chance we got, Antonio and I moved forward. In cold blood, we killed them."

"Finn…" Rachel held out a hand.

"No," he shook his head. "I told you that you didn't want to know."

"I'm glad that you told me," she reached for his hand again. He allowed her to grab it. "I'm glad that you trust me enough to tell me all of this."

"It was all for nothing," he continued. "She lost the baby, and right after that, she returned to her fiancé as if nothing happened. I was completely heartbroken but I knew that we had to move on. Authority officials were looking for the people responsible for the murder and it was a matter of time before they came knocking on our door. Antonio felt the same."

"By morning we were gone. We were desperate on the run. Anywhere would've sufficed. Before we knew it, we found ourselves in England. We stayed there for as long as we could, on high alert. My eighteenth birthday came and went, and things began to settle for us."

"Why do I get the feeling that that's just the beginning?" Rachel raised an eyebrow. He smirked.

"For a person who has always been so set on blending in, she stuck right out of the crowd. Her hair flowed all the way down her back, bright and golden. Her face was one of an angel. Her body was nothing short of perfect. Her clothes were even attention-worthy. She wore a dress with such silk that I'd never seen in my life. The pure image of a goddess, we called her."

"Antonio pointed her out of the crowd. She was standing close by, watching the water by the docks. We both became easily infatuated. We just had to meet her. It was not disappointing either. Her personality was a lot louder than her looks. You knew exactly what she was thinking. The girl had no sense of a filter."

"We fell for her instantly. The more we knew her, the more competitive we became. It got to the point where it drew us against each other. We shared a really big fight one night, doors were slammed, things were said… She found out. That's when she flipped. I was flabbergasted. With incredible strength, she dragged both of our asses into an alley. Yelling for what seemed like hours, she told us we were like brothers. She said a fight over any girl was foolish and immature. And then…"

"And then?"

"She bit us." Bit? "It hurt like a bitch for a couple of hours and then the pain was nonexistent. We were both wide awake and forced to face our sudden fear. I remember thinking that I was going to die that night. Turns out I was right in some way. That's how my human life came to a close."

"She explained everything the next day. It scared the shit out of me, I'm telling you. I thought she was drunk or something. Then, the scar of her bite healed and I had no other excuses to make up." "She came from ancient Greece, she told us. Her parents named her Persephone in some lame attempt to honor the goddess." He laughed. "I remember her pointing her finger, saying that if either one of us addressed her by her real name she would end us right then and there."

"Percy."

"The one and only," he smiled. "She told us we were going to be a family, then. And, suddenly, somehow, I felt a sense of relief. I didn't know this girl or her purpose. I didn't know what I'd just become and how long I'd be that way, but I took her promise with open arms. It began to patch all the holes my father left in my heart."

"Here we are today, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Yes, there were the downsides once I found out that I was a vampire and blood became my greatest weakness. I scared people off. Many died at my hands. However, if there were one thing I wouldn't change, it would be them. I'm eternally grateful and always will be, for however much longer I live. They saved me."

He smiled as she rested her head against his shoulder. "That's my story."

"A very beautiful one, Finn," she commented. "So, maybe you've had some ups and downs, but now, it's clear to see that you came out the other end really strong. It makes me happy to be able to witness it."

"But?" he asked, leaning back to look down at her. She sighed, knowing that he could read her better than she thought.

"I'm just kind of confused." She started. "You're different from me."

"You caught that, didn't you?" he turned back to the view before them.

"You look like a human. I mean, if you wouldn't have told me, I wouldn't have known." She told him. "You have color in your cheeks, your heart beats. I can smell some form of blood from the colorful veins in your arms. It's not appetizing to me, but it still has the same iron and salt effect. "

"It's a defense feature, I guess you could say. Like chameleons have camouflage? We're designed to look like our prey. It makes the hunt easier."

"So, you feed on people?"

"No," he shook his head profusely. "We're not like the others. Hurting people is not an option. We alternate between animals and blood bags."

"Well, you know that we'd never-" She took his statement as an insult, assuming that he was referring to her family when he said "others".

"I know," he smiled. "I smelled the bags in your freezer all the way from upstairs the night I stayed over." "But there are others out there who don't like their blood cold and vegetarian-like."

"The football player that died in the woods," she remembered.

"We're trying to get to the bottom of it," he informed her. "Percy's already contacted her friends in the next state."

"So are we," she assured him. "Will said we shouldn't do anything until we know for sure."

"Yeah, that's what we said too." He smiled, leaning closer to her side. "Look at us. Yesterday, did you honestly think that we'd be here?"

"No," she smiled to herself. "Yesterday I thought you were a fragile human who deserved way better than me and my scary fangs."

"Rachel…"

"How are we different if we're both vampires, Finn?" she changed the subject.

He went along with her. "There are three different species of vampires in our world, Rachel." He started. "There are the Creators, the first to ever exist. They're close to extinction, actually. There's only group that we're aware of that live in Nebraska."

"So, basically, like _The Originals_?"

"No, _The Originals_ is a fictional TV show on _The CW._ " He rolled his eyes.

"There's no actual evidence as to how vampires really came to be. Anyway, time went and my kind descended from the Creators."

"Your kind?" she asked.

"They call us the Wanderers." He informed her. "We're much like the Creators, but they're more human-like with different eye colors."

"And me?"

"They call your kind the Moderns," he informed her. "You're the newest form. We just don't know your origin yet. The first spotting was back during _The American Revolution_."

"That's why our changing methods were different, huh?" she asked. "You were bit and I killed myself with another vampire's blood in my system."

"Yeah," he replied.

"So, we're basically the un-cool groups of freshman in the lunchroom?" she asked.

He chuckled, hugging her tighter. "You already know my feelings toward you." Leaning closer, he whispered into her ear, "Senza di Te la mia vita non ha senso."

Her body went still against the tickle of his breath on her neck. His accent sent shivers down her spine. In an instant their eyes were locked. Everything that she'd been thinking before suddenly came back. She was lost to the outside world. It was just the two of them, sitting alone on that branch high in the air.

"That sounded beautiful," her eyes fell to focus on his lips. Intimidation kicked in, causing her to stutter. "W-what does it m-mean?"

"Guess you'll have to _Google_ it when you get home," he smirked.

"What?" the mood shifted instantly. "Why won't you just tell me now?" she wondered.

"How romantic would it be if I didn't send you home reeling?" he joked. "I have to give you some sort of reason to come back."

"You're an ass," she smacked him on the shoulder.

"And you're bellissimo."

"Beautiful," she understood, still staring at his lips. She changed her course of thought. "Finn, do you really think that this can work?" She motioned between the two of them.

"I know it can." He assured her. "I love you, Rachel."

"What if I can't tell you that back, right now?" she wondered.

"I already told you, however long it takes. I'm not going anywhere."

"What if I can't ever tell you that back?" she watched his face for any indication of change. It never came.

"I still won't go anywhere." He took her hand. "I won't leave your side until you physically ask me to, okay? I mean it."

"That can't happen. That won't happen." She admitted. "We have _something_. I don't know what that something is, just yet. But, it's really important to me." She playfully rolled her eyes. "You make me happy."

"If those are the only words I hear for the rest of my existence, I will be the happiest man alive, Rachel Berry. I don't need the 'I love you'… I just need _you_."

"Okay," she nodded. "Then, I'm in. I may need some time to adjust and I'm not making any promises to you, but, I'll try." She wrapped her palms around his cheeks. Pulling his face towards hers, she closed her eyes before she could feel his kiss again. "Just, don't break my heart, Finn Hudson. That's all I ask."

"I'd sooner die," the space closed. Wrapped in a cloud of bliss, she almost missed it. Leaning into his muscular embrace, right in front of the two for both to see, there was a small parting in the grey clouds. The warmth engulfed them, the light from the sun shining down. A smile crept on her lips, her mind thinking of one thing. _Hope._

* * *

They spent the rest of the day just talking and hugging each other close. To her surprise, he was exceptional at keeping out the cold. His warm skin felt like a blanket against her cold touch. She could've fallen asleep, more than sure that he'd catch her if she were to fall.

For the first time, contentment filled her, emptiness becoming a definition she wasn't familiar with. By the time night came, they were already on the floor of the forest, heading back to her car.

"We need to do this more often," he told her, holding the door to the driver's side open.

"Well, the woods are sort of my forte." She hopped into the car, waiting for him to make the cross. She looked to the side and his seatbelt had already been fastened. "I can take you anywhere. Just ask."

"I'll keep that in mind." He chuckled, looking out the dark window. The controls on the dashboard and radio were the only light. "Do you think we'll get into trouble?"

"Does Carole know?" she asked, keeping her focus on the road.

"No," he smiled. "But, eventually we'll have to tell her. She'll get a little suspicious once she notices that her children aren't aging."

Rachel laughed, "Well, at least you'll be able to compel yourself out of trouble. That doesn't really go over well in my home."

"Will and Emma seem really understanding." He told her. "I'm sure they'll be able to look past it. What's one day without school?"

"When I was out with you on Friday night, they thought that I was the one to kill that football player."

"There's always sneaking in through the window," he offered in support.

She laughed. Before long, they were pulling up to the school parking lot so he could retrieve his car. He lingered by her window a few seconds. "Next time, it's your turn to tell your story."

She couldn't argue. It wouldn't be fair. She nodded, "Just, bring ear plugs because things get pretty gruesome."

"You took my bad with open ears," he told her. "I'll do the same."

"Hey, could you write down what you whispered into my ear, earlier?" she asked, suddenly thinking of it. She was very curious.

"What kind of challenge would that be?" he smirked.

"Finn, we don't all have the memory of an elephant. C'mon, I really want to know." He shook his head.

"Will you at least repeat it?"

Leaning against the window seal, he got close enough for her to feel his breath against her face, "Senza di Te la mia vita non ha senso."

Turning to his car, he waved back at her. "Have a good night, Rachel. I love you."

"Have a good night," she responded before heading back to her home.

Will and Emma gave her no type of lecture when she walked through the front door. Instead, they were taken aback by the look on her face. She smiled, greeting them by the foot of the stairs.

Grabbing the cup of coffee Will held out for her, she gave them the rundown while bolting up the stairs. "I'm sorry I'm late, I'm sorry I skipped school. It was a good reason, I think. I can't talk. See you guys later."

At her desk, she tapped her fingers anxiously against the wood as her the computer came to life. The phrase played in her mind over and over again. The only problem, she knew she'd murder the spelling. The search engine couldn't pop up fast enough. She typed the phrase out the best to her ability, crossing her fingers as she hit "search".

A long list of options popped up under her original submission, all with the same central idea. She clicked the first of the millions of Italian language websites suggested. The minute the words spelled out before her in English, her chest grabbed her attention. The edges of the large hole inched closer together.

 _Without you, my life has no meaning._

* * *

 **One, I do not own the Originals. Just thought i'd clear that up. Two, i really hope you guys enjoy! :) -Kat**


	17. Can't Remember to Forget

**Chapter 16**

"So, I was thinking take-out from an unhealthy restaurant and then a quiet night under stars, maybe? Hey, do you think that same branch from before would suffice?" Finn asked over the phone Friday afternoon, bouncing his pencil against the wood of the desk in his room.

"I may be an A average student, Finn, but I'm not all-knowing." Rachel replied in a sarcastic tone. It was a second nature that made time with her all the more enjoyable. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about our hot date tonight." He replied with a smug smile on his end.

She laughed, "Right." The music in her voice could not be missed over the static of the cellphone line.

"I'm being serious," he playfully rolled his eyes. "Will and Emma gave their permission."

"Wait, what?" All traces of amusement in her voice were now replaced with anxiety. He knew it. He heard it in the way she breathed. "Whatever happened to giving a few days' notice, like normal people?"

He had to remind himself that it hadn't been long since she'd agreed to give him a chance. She was still a bit hesitant. This type of treatment- wanting to spend every waking moment in her presence, dates, adoration, and etcetera- was still a bit foreign to her. He knew he shouldn't take it personally. She was still trying to adjust. So, instead, he made light of it.

"May I remind you that we're both dead? What's normal about that?" It was incredibly morbid, but he found humor in the statement. "Plus, I wanted to surprise you."

"Finn, you know how I feel about surprises." She sighed, the agitation behind her voice doing nothing short of exciting him even more. Gosh, he loved this girl.

"Actually, I don't." he stated, matter-of-factly. "That's why we need to take advantage of any and all opportunities to learn more about each other. Moments are fleeting, Rachel. There's no more time to waste!"

"You've had almost five centuries to yourself, I've had nearly two. Time literally means nothing." She reminded him.

"To you, maybe…" He thought of the dreadful century and a half he had to spend without her, thinking she were lost to him forever. Each day was like a new pinch of salt in this wound. That's when he wished the most that time really did mean nothing. It dragged on, the nights growing longer and colder. At the turn of each month, his existence alone was nothing more than an old regret. Each sunrise strengthened the desire to draw it all to an end.

Then, he found her again and here he was, wishing time would slow down, even by the smallest measures. It always found a way to escape him, being at her side, giggling like the love-sick fool that he was.

"Maybe I just want an excuse to see you." He shrugged his shoulders, drawing imaginary scribbles with the tip of his eraser.

She chuckled at this, "You saw me not even two hours ago."

"Well, I miss you." He assured her. "And, you know, you still haven't told me your story." "You can't keep brushing it off. It's already been three weeks since you've heard mine. The line has officially been introduced. In fact, I'm drawing it as we speak." He dragged the eraser along the dark brown wood. "You know I want to hear it, Rachel."

"Aren't your friends beginning to wonder where the infamous Finn Hudson disappears to, nowadays?" he recognized her feeble attempt to change the subject. He decided not to be persistent. It'd get them nowhere. Her stubbornness was his worst enemy.

"Well, they have girlfriends too. I'm sure they understand."

He could hear the smile, "So, that's what we're calling it? I'm your _girlfriend_?"

"The role's yours, correct. But, I can call a few others to audition if you'd like. Just to even out the playing field. I know you like to win fair and square."

"You're such a jerk!" she scoffed. He laughed.

"Well, this jerk is picking you up at 8. So, be ready."

"Wai-" he hung up before she could finish.

He couldn't help the huge grin that crossed his cheeks after placing his phone back on the desk. He ran his hands through his hair, chuckling to himself. He knew that it would be wise of him to get up and prepare for the night ahead. However, for whatever reason, his mind took over. Instead of fighting against it, he found himself floating along its path.

He felt different. Not a bad type, of course; if anything, better than before. Even when he was at the peak of existence with Amelia, he didn't feel this way. And, that was definitely saying a lot. It was hard for him to explain. Like something had just shifted. Like a good type of tornado ripped through the core of his heart.

It was the way one felt coming home after getting a flattering haircut. It was the feeling you got leaving the office, the raise yours for the taking. It was like he'd just returned from winning the million-dollar lottery ticket. And that ticket? It was _her_. It had to be.

There was no other reasonable explanation. Rachel Berry changed him in a way that no other had. As horrible as he felt for thinking it, considering he'd thought the same of Amelia, he knew it was true. It was like he had previously fallen in love with just an introduction of the girl.

Her transformation was practically miraculous. He took note of that the moment the words left her mouth that first day in the hallway. She didn't see it, of course. He only wished he could give her his eyes to borrow for just one day. Behind the sulking, self-loathing, and miserable vampire he found something entirely different.

Some of the characteristics of Amelia that he'd come to adore may have vanished, her girly manner, innocence, and cheerful insight, for example. But, that only heightened Rachel's personality. He'd witnessed it first-hand. With the same beautiful grin as Amelia, the same childish giggle, Rachel Berry was the epitome of perfection.

So, maybe, she'd changed majorly.

Amelia's positive energy had always been apparent. She connected well with others around her. She was out-going, poised, and depressingly optimistic considering the circumstances she was under... Her senses of adventure and livelihood were her two most inviting factors. He never met one person she couldn't wrap around her tiny finger. The mayor himself, as bitter as he used to be, became drawn to the petite ray of sunshine. And, it had nothing to do with the fact that she was engaged to his son. She was just a free spirit.

Rachel presented the opposite effect to others around her. To him, well…When he was with her, she became this person he couldn't believe he'd been missing out on all this time. Yes, she was moody, negative... She was everything you'd run away from, looking from outside of the glass. But, at the same time, no one could compare, including Amelia, herself.

Of course, they were the same person. But somehow, nowhere close. Time did her justice. Fragility was no longer a thing. He remembered her laughing at a movie idea of the damsel-in-distress. She'd stated it was completely ludicrous. She insisted on holding her own and looking out for herself. She'd become a survivor in the period that he'd been away. She'd become this astounding, brave, and definitely sarcastic warrior princess.

Let anyone tell her different. He knew he'd gain a great amount of pleasure watching someone convince her otherwise. More than that, he knew he'd gain an even greater amount of pleasure watching her retreat in victory.

Like a mighty queen at the throne; a _force to be reckoned with._

His teeth clenched hard together, knowing he had only him, he who would not be named, to thank.

He sighed, remembering the speech he'd just given her about time. Sitting here, falling deeper into the pool of his mind provided no justice. From the time he'd absent-mindedly glanced over at it when he'd entered his room, it seemed like the hands on the clock had raced forward. Had it really been thirty minutes since he'd hung up on Rachel?

As usual, his nerves got the best of him. A closet full of nice, presentable clothes stared back. He was sure of it. Carole had returned from the outlet just a few days ago with more options. So, why now, as he ran a hand through the different fabrics, did they hold no appeal? Why was it no different from the time he'd been invited over to their home for dinner?

He sat on the floor in a haste panic as the hours drew closer. Blue? Red? Black? Plaid? No, crap, none of it worked. He was now buried in the "no" pile, huffing in annoyance. Acknowledging the surrender, he cursed and flung another shirt across the room.

"Percy!" he shouted.

Seconds later the door whipped open, "That's my name, don't wear-"

"Come here. I need you to help me again." He sighed, watching her eyes scan the room before the smirk crept upon her lips.

"Is Finncess, again, perplexed on what to wear to the ball?" Walking to his side, she helped him up off the floor.

He rolled his eyes, "I have a date with Rachel tonight."

Her eyes widened, "A date? When the hell did that happen?"

"About three weeks ago," he shrugged his shoulders, returning to sorting the clothes beneath him.

"Gosh, Finn, that's a long time to keep something in the dark." He knew she wouldn't drop it as easily as if he'd told Toni.

They decided to keep it low-key, neither of them being too fond of public displays of affection. The only two he was sure he knew of the relationship was Will and Emma, finding out just the other day when he asked for their permission.

"We've been trying to keep it on the down low." He replied.

"But, still, we're family, Finn." She frowned. "You know I don't like secrets."

Guilt crept in his chest. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, Percy."

"I just want you to be aware of what you're doing, be aware of all that you're putting at stake, again." She rolled her eyes. "Humans seem to be your type, although I have no idea why." Her face curled in what looked like disgust.

He went to object, but he remembered something. It wasn't his secret to share.

"Of course, there's no question why you chose _her_ to help you move on, as opposed to Brittany S. Pierce or even that annoying Olivia Schuester. The resemblance is impeccable. Finn, are you sure that she isn't Amelia?"

He lied to her again. This time, he wasn't sure why. Maybe he felt that Rachel's previous identity was worth protecting. Or, maybe he was waiting to hear her story to make absolutely sure that he wasn't dreaming.

"She's dead, Percy."

She nodded, lowering her head. "Maybe I just miss her too much," she admitted.

"Every day," he agreed.

"Can we at least meet her? Rachel?"

"You have met her," Finn laughed. "You passed her a joint."

"That was different. There were a lot of people around us, I wasn't really paying attention, and I didn't know that she was serious enough to become your boo-thang."

"My _boo-thang_ ," he repeated, "Very original."

"You know what I mean." She sighed, moving over to scan the items that survived the wreckage of his closet. "Your _princess,"_ he couldn't come up with a word to describe what it felt like, hearing his famous word of endearment used for Amelia.

His silence was loud enough, "I'm sorry. I put my insensitive foot in my mouth again."

"We should probably just focus on the clothes right now," He nodded, moving to scan the clothes at her side. "I've got to start getting ready soon."

"Easy," she smiled up at him, working her magic. By the end of it, she was arranging the perfect combination of options on his doorknob, options which he'd tossed across his room moments before. It was clear now. He was definitely overthinking.

His dark blue jeans, a white t-shirt, a light grey sweatshirt, and his black leather jacket waited for him at the door, just above his black converse. If he didn't know that Toni allowed her to lay out his clothes for him every morning, he would've asked how she was such an expert in fashion of the opposite gender.

She only smiled, taking in his reaction. "You're very welcome. I'm accepting your gratitude in all forms, just more preferably in cash."

"You have no idea how much I appreciate this, Percy."

"Yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes. Patting him on the back she made her way to the door. Stopping, she turned back to look at him. "Hey, Finn…"

"Yeah?"

"I know I can be pretty judgmental about the whole human-vampire combo and maybe that's because I'm a bit paranoid or because I've never been in love with any other person, no matter what they were, whatever… Just, know I'm only looking out for you, okay?" Her perfectly arched eyebrows furrowed into an expression that mimicked pain. "The thought of something happening to you, the thought of losing my brother is more than enough to kill me."

"We're family," he nodded. "Family looks out for one another. I completely understand that. The same thought of losing my sister is just as unbearable. You know that."

She smiled, "And Finn?"

"Percy?" he smiled in mockery. She laughed.

"Quinn was a bitch, there's no denying that. Toni, me and even Carole could only hold our tongues for so long. But now, it's different. It's pretty obvious," She chuckled, pointing to the mess on the floor. " _You're_ different. We've all experienced, first-hand, the hurricane that Quinn left behind. So, to see you smile like an idiot like you're doing right now, well that's enough for me."

He eyed her suspiciously as she struggled. "What I'm saying is, I- I guess Rachel isn't as bad as I initially thought."

He chuckled, "You think she's perfect for me, even if she is human."

"Now, I didn't say all of that." She threw her hands up in protest.

"That's because you haven't been formally introduced to her." He assured with a nod.

"The joint," she reminded him.

"Like you said, you weren't really paying attention." His smile was becoming smug. "She's a lot like you, you know. You'd be quite smitten."

"Well, I guess there's only one way of finding that out," she challenged. "Actually, why don't I go tell Carole now? You, as well as I, know that she'd have to have her over for dinner instantly."

"You wouldn't," his eyes turned dark.

"Relax," she rolled hers. "I'm not that cruel."

He retaliated with the roll of his own at her humor he was sure he was to get every time they spoke.

"Just remember, it's rude to get past first base of the first date," and with that she was gone. He had to take a moment to laugh, shaking his head at the girl. Once he'd been collected, he headed to the shower, ridding himself of the afternoon football practice stink.

He didn't like the thoughts he'd received, scrubbing himself with his favorite body wash while thinking of football. That same void, from three weeks ago, could still be felt; like something was missing from the equation, or, more so, _someone_.

Noah Puckerman, his former best friend. He could still feel the absence, blatantly obvious, that first day back on the field after the attack. Yes, he'd been well aware of the news reports stating he was deceased. Maybe he just passed it off at the time, the thought of the mystery behind it all being much more intriguing to his thought process. But, to think and to experience were two completely different things. To vampires, the grief left behind was so much harsher, no matter the relationship to the deceased. It had always been so easy to get lost in being indestructible, so easy to forget how fragile human lives really were.

He could remember the impact of it all, as if it'd just happened yesterday. In ways more than one, it definitely felt like it.

In quiet times like this, in the shower or in bed late at night, he didn't have the escape easily accessible when around others. The many possibilities that his inner self presented were like ghosts, hiding in the shadows and screaming at the top of their lungs, desperately waiting to be acknowledged.

This year would have marked four. It would have been four years of a friendship he was once so confident in. He remembered that first day of freshman year so intently.

They had just booted themselves in with the Hudson's, made themselves at home. They were the mysterious new kids to Crystal Willow, the three that no one dared to mess with but had a blast making fun of.

"Okay, it wasn't that unexpected," he whispered, suppressing a half-hearted laugh.

He stuck out more than the other two. His "goth" phase hadn't yet worn off. The taped-shut cardboard box of clothes at the top of his shelf was once an opus to everything that identified himself. The only item to survive that period in his life was the black leather jacket expected to be worn tonight.

So out of touch with the 90's grunge, his spiked hair, eyeliner, and black fingernail polish gained him nothing more than unwanted attention. Carole even took a poke or two at him. It wasn't until one freshman teen stepped forward one day, braving about a million horses and men.

A spot on Crystal Willow's elite football team, the boy offered, assuming that he was any good. He laughed with his head rested against the slippery tiled wall of the shower. To this day, he could still imagine the embarrassment taking on the offer as a human, rather than an excelling supernatural predator.

The boy had a bright vision for him before he could conjure up anything for himself. In just one short lunch sitting he was introduced to the perks of fame in a small town. He was assured that there'd be fans of his own screaming in the crowds, lines of girls to choose from, adoration from the founding families, even a top spot in the local civilization… It was like a packaged deal for a good price that you often found yourself desperately searching for the catch.

This explained his skepticism in the beginning. He took the proposition as some kind of joke conspired by the entire student body. Bullying wasn't yet out of the scope. It was expiring, of course, seeing as a good month or so went by from his first day. However, he was still getting the notes in his lockers, hearing the laughter and hushed whispers behind him, and experiencing the isolation in the lunch room. Percy and Toni connected with another age group and he didn't know how to ease himself alongside.

With all things considered, he allowed the bigger picture to take ahold of his judgement as time went on. The boy offered no type of surrender only adding to the brewing cup. At last, he canceled out all of his oppositions to the idea, deciding that he would just wing it when the time came. He wasn't smug, he swore by it. But, joke or not, he knew there would be no laughter watching him move around on that field.

One night, maybe two hours after midnight, he made the compromise. He would take the boy up on his offer. What much more was there? He couldn't say. The benefits were screaming at him. So much so, he even added a few bonuses of his own to the contract.

It was the chance at finally fitting in. The chance to imitate a normal, human life was more than promising. They wouldn't have to be on the edge of their toes any longer. They could co-habitate without any more suspicion than they'd already risen. He could return to the place he'd once called home with _her_ at his side. Of course, at the time, he didn't realize that in just three short years a reunion would be possible. In his mind she was dead, and he'd returned to live out her memory.

Of course, he would take the offer. He was already struggling enough as it was. He was as socially and physically awkward as a person came. Eternally stuck in the body of a seventeen year old, he knew they were reaching very low. But, the younger they started out, the longer they could stay. Relying on dark, baggy clothes and heelless sneakers, he was in the hopes of passing off as a fifteen year old, at the very least.

They grew close during the first year that rounded; thick as thieves, one would even call it. Noah Puckerman was, after all, the only guy on the team to accept him. It'd taken a while after joining for the others to adjust. It wasn't until he allowed Percy to take full control of his outward appearance that they stopped taking jabs at his sexuality.

From there, the wheels began to rotate. Everything that had been offered was instantly his, and much more. In that first year, all he grew to look forward to exceeded his expectations. He found himself at the peak of his imaginary human existence.

He learned to silence the guilt tugging away at his core, the thoughts bouncing around his head like a bunch of balloons. One moment, he was slightly aware of the fact this true self was slipping through his fingers, and then at another, he forgot to care.

Things were moving too quickly. Things were getting too good. Like only once before in his vampire life, he was high off the ecstatic experience that could be offered by the humans. Like _never_ before, he could fully occupy himself from that dark corner in his brain, the memory of the loss of _her._

He was being introduced to Quinn at a party not shortly after and everything sort of went from there. The power was thrilling, shrugging on the heavy letterman jacket. He'd made Crystal Willow's most eligible beauty queen his girlfriend, and the quarterback, his best friend. His place was made and he couldn't imagine anything able to change that.

There was just one underlying issue, just one reason that the whole charade came tumbling down. Crystal Willow's football team absolutely sucked. After the season finished sophomore year, they were sporting an embarrassing 2-8 ratio.

He couldn't even remember where things began to take their downward turn. Standing under the hot water, the lines were still a bit blurred to him. He remembered one of the last games for that season. Puck injured his ankle badly. In return, coach Beiste pulled him from the game and withdrew Finn from his comfortable linebacker position.

It was a bit intimidating, that much he remembered, filling the empty quarterback position. But, once he got started, his motivation kicked in. They won that night, increasing their victories to two. This seemed to be the turning point. The upcoming year, their positions were swapped. Finn became the quarterback, reigning in a brand new sense of pride, becoming the star to shine.

A cringe of guilt ran up his spine now, thinking over things. He'd always chosen to shut his mind off of these horrible memories, so he'd never gotten this far back. He was suddenly aware. His eyes bulged, his memories being introduced in a new light.

 _He never apologized. He never even felt the need._

In the midst of things, he became lost. The small-town fame engulfed him. The bad feelings his conscience tried to serve him in stealing everything his best friend probably worked so hard for were ineffective. He couldn't think of the repercussions of his actions. At this point, it was nothing more than an endurable itch.

They drifted a bit after then, Finn growing closer with those who used to make fun of him. But they still took the time to speak with each other and hang out on the weekends. Going about the rest of his junior year, he remained untouched. Graceful, as he initially thought he was, he remained devoted to helping others. While football season came to a close, he continued with student council, the welcoming committee, the glee club, and yearbook. That's what kept him busy, kept him distracted.

What was that saying? Things weren't really clear until all was said and done? That's how it was. In the wake of destruction that Saturday morning after finding Quinn and Puck in his car, he suddenly recognized the dark they'd been keeping him in. He saw the meaningful glances, the whispers, the way in which they moved while they were together… He wondered, that morning, if it were going on this whole time?

This time, however, thinking about it was much harder. He wasn't claiming Puck completely innocent. He wasn't taking back the anger he still held toward him. He was only realizing now that it was much easier to penalize his former best friend rather than his girlfriend because his intentions behind it were still a mystery at the time. The fact that Finn's shameless conquer was the reason behind the whole thing dug much further under his skin than he'd liked. The thought that all of this could have possibly been avoided sent him sliding to the floor of the shower.

"No," he whispered.

This new perception ate away at him like some sort of mind consuming disease. Guilt, regret, remorse-it was all he could feel. All outside things forgotten, he sat there, replaying things over and over in his head.

The optimistic, positive mood that he'd been in moments before was now below him, mixed in with the ruins of his heart.

That night at the back to school party, the night of the first football game, in the parking lot standing next to Quinn… Those were all opportunities he was taking, trying to make things right again between them. Those were all opportunities that Finn had soullessly turned him away, playing the victim to incredible extremes.

Why did he feel the need to justify himself, though? It wouldn't change anything. Still, he did. He really did believe that Puck acted without any reason. He really believed that he was capable of that kind of betrayal. No amount of words from the boy's mouth could have persuaded him in those moments. And finding out that Quinn was now pregnant from it only added gasoline to the fire burning in his chest.

"He's dead," he felt the burning in his throat. "There's no going back now." He was unsure, as water poured down from his hair, if there were tears or not. It felt like it. Either way, he ducked his head into his hands.

And, for the first time since the news was presented to him, in the most unexpected time and place, Finn Hudson mourned the death of Noah Puckerman.

* * *

To his dismay, he spent the rest of the afternoon utterly distracted. He'd gotten out and dried up moments after the breakdown, slipping into the clothes Percy picked out. From that time, he experienced five crying episodes. They were short-lived but emotionally exhausting.

He considered calling Rachel and canceling. He'd be in no state to provide the proper entertainment for the night and he knew that she didn't deserve it. However, as the clock drew closer to the expected time of his arrival, he hadn't yet made the move. He knew that she was probably already getting ready for their time together and it was simply too late.

He assumed the stalling of his decision was along the lines of his desire to be within her presence. He hoped it would make him feel better, maybe even forget. It seemed to work every time before.

Trying to keep the farewells short, he was out of the door in two minutes. He didn't trust himself behind the wheel tonight. He didn't want to risk the chance of leaving his Mercedes with the same fate of his Porsche. He left the black car parked perfectly next to the silver Range Rover they'd just purchased for Carole on her birthday. Taking off in a flash, he only hoped that Rachel wouldn't mind his preference of transportation.

He was easily upset after his theory of being in her presence came right back 'round, slapping him in the face. Walking up the moon-lit pathway to the big white home, his ears caught a conversation happening upstairs.

"Olivia," His body suddenly dispelled all soothing abilities her voice never failed to provide him with before. "He sees me every day. This is all completely unnecessary. He's going to be here any minute."

"Sit still," the girl hissed. "I'm almost finished."

"Ow!" Rachel exclaimed.

"I told you to sit still!" Olivia exclaimed. "You're so lucky I'm experienced with an eyeliner pen."

"I look like a clown," he chuckled, knowing very well that she probably looked more than fine.

"Don't criticize my master piece!" Olivia exclaimed. "Santana, take this tube of mascara before I beat her with it."

The more civilized voice played through his ears, "Go down with the others, Liv. I'll take care of things."

He could hear footsteps moving down the stairs then, still remaining wary of the voices on top. Her voice came back into his head. He wanted to kick himself in the gut or something. The nervousness in her voice should have amused him. The pre-date jitters should have done something to his heart, made it jump at the very least. But still, he remained distracted.

"So…" she started. Santana helped her finish.

"Finn Hudson," she chuckled. "I really didn't see that one coming."

"Is there something wrong with him?" Rachel asked, completely missing the joking behind the girl's tone.

"No!" she assured her with another laugh. "I just didn't really think you went after the jock type."

"Well, technically, he went after me." Silence followed. Then, she laughed.

"I know, completely smug of me to say," she sighed. "I don't know, I'm freaking out."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because, I'm not good at this," she admitted. "He's super nice to me. I guess I don't want to chase him away when all is said and done."

"Who says there has to be a 'said and done'?"

"That's kind of my style," she sighed again. "You know I'm not good with people."

"Want to know what I think?" The brushing of hair could be heard now.

There was no response. "I think that there's something different about him. I mean, I've only spoken with him briefly, but he's a really good guy. That, I can tell. And, you know I'm good with those types of things." "You're different with him. We've all taken notice to that."

"He makes some of the bad go away, I guess."

"That's all we've ever wanted for you, Rachel. And, if that's what he does, no one should argue against it. Not even you." "I think that when all of this is 'said and done', you're going to be a million times happier."

"You really think so?" Rachel asked, Finn taking pleasure, for once, in the fact that she really seemed convinced.

"Time will tell," she replied, "But, if you want me to answer honestly, then yes, I really think so."

"Gee," she struggled for a moment. "Thanks, Santana."

"You know I'm always here for you."

"Could you tell me something else, then?" she seemed distracted. Finn wished to see her. Maybe seeing her and hearing her were two different things. Maybe once he saw her face, he'd feel better.

"Anything," Santana told her.

"I know I told Olivia that none of this mattered to me, but do I look okay?" She stuttered nervously, "I-I don't w-want him to think I-I'm like a butcher or s-something."

"A butcher?" the girl scoffed. "You look amazing, Rachel."

"Thanks," she chuckled.

"Now, get downstairs," she instructed hastily. The sound of two pairs of footsteps descending pulled him out of his trance. "I can smell the headache-inducing cologne that Sam and Elliot wouldn't dare to purchase living in this house. He's close."

He rolled his eyes, rushing up the stairs of the porch to meet them.

She was over exaggerating, that much was obvious. Stepping in front of him, he was stunned twice as much as he would've been if she were in her everyday apparel. She wasn't. Olivia's touch could definitely be noted.

Her famous black combat boots accompanied a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, a red shirt decorated with a floral pattern, and a black leather jacket to match his. She smiled up at him, the makeup around her eyes complimenting the chocolate of her irises all the more.

"Hi," she whispered low enough to be out of the ears of the others. Nervously glancing around, she turned back to him and chuckled a bit.

"You look…" he couldn't even finish the sentence. His breath unwillingly caught. All negative emotions he'd been trying so hard to suppress came flooding out in waves. He felt the tears testing the bottom lids on his eyes.

Okay, this was not working. The sight of Rachel Berry alone did nothing to help him. He was now hopeless. Tonight was a disaster in the making. He wasn't all the way there and more than likely, one would be hurt by the end. The brightness in her eyes did nothing to help it. He would say it one more time. He should have canceled.

She nodded, biting her lip, "Yeah, you too."

It was then that he remembered they had an audience. "Okay, you two get together! Let me get a picture!"

He smiled once, the flash on Emma's phone blinding him. "Oh wait, Finn blinked."

"Emma," Rachel groaned. She apologized under her breath.

He assured her that it was okay.

The flash blinded him again, but this time, to his surprise, no retakes were necessary. She'd gotten all that she needed.

"Okay, let's get out of here before she goes into full paparazzi mode." He laughed, nodding as they said their farewells again.

Walking just in front of him with her hands in her pocket, she stopped noticing the absence of the car. She sent him a questioning look.

"I thought running would be better tonight," he admitted. "Are you okay with that?"

"That's kind of perfect, actually." She smiled at the ground beneath her before moving her eyes up to him. She laughed, "No radio to block me out when I ask you a trivial question."

"Yeah," he tried to smile, but he knew it came out more strained than he would've liked.

"Tonight's nice," she continued in front of him, taking no notice to his state. "It's cold, but not as piercing as it's been."

"Yeah," he replied again with a broken chuckle. "It feels good."

"And the stars," she looked up in amazement, "You were right. They're beautiful tonight."

He could only nod. That's when she whipped her body around, taking in all of his face that she could see through the darkness. She stared intently. If he had to guess, she was probably trying to make sense of his expression. It was either that, or she was trying to conjure the right words to say. The regret then swept clean from his body, leaving just remorse and guilt.

Just when he thought she would say something, he felt her hands rise to his cheeks. They were wet, which he didn't realize until she wiped them with her thumbs. His lips then began to quiver and from there, everything went downhill.

"I'm sorry," he choked. "I'm an ass. I should've called you, Rachel, rescheduled."

She shook her head, reaching onto her tippy-toes. With the back of her hand, she lowered his head into her shoulder. Her smell was a pleasant type of intoxicating. It was the same dark and sultry perfume he'd inhaled during their night at the graveyard. He knew if the circumstances were different, it'd have a different effect on him.

She began to whisper, "Finn, don't ever think you have to apologize for crying in front of me, okay?"

He sighed as the small, cold hands rubbed circles against his back. This was the type of soothing he was longing for. He was already calming. Her arms seemed to be the key.

"I don't want you to see me like this," he sighed. "You shouldn't have to."

"Trust goes both ways, remember?" she reminded him. "Besides, I have nothing to judge you with. You've already seen wet and slobby episodes of mine. It sort of makes your crying look beautiful, actually," She laughed, sending a warm blanket of relief through his body. This time, when he chuckled, it was real.

"You are beautiful when you cry, Rachel, even if it's heartbreaking to watch."

"Then, you know how I feel right now," she caught his eyes with her own. "Will you tell me what's wrong? You're not being you. I sort of miss that annoying optimism from earlier."

He directed his eyes back at the ground for a moment before taking her hand and breaking out into a high-speed run. At first, she was a bit confused. But, she had no trouble keeping up. By the time they were on top of the same branch from before, she stared at him, waiting for an answer.

"Up here makes me feel better," he told her, "High up, away from all of the ears."

"That's fine," she nodded. She took a breath, as if fighting some war in her head.

"Finn, you already know how bad I am at opening up. I mean, not that it matters right now or anything, but I still haven't told you my story. And, that sort of makes me feel like a hypocrite, sitting here asking for you open up to me." "I know now is not the time for negotiations, and to even suggest it probably makes me sound like the most selfish person in the world. But, I'll do it anyways, if it helps make you feel better. Because, you've already done so much for me. Like that speech about how you loved me and what you saw when you looked at me..." She bit her lip, shaking her head clear of rambling she probably thought was embarrassing her. "Anyways, now would be better than any other of a time for me to start to give back."

"What are you talking about?" he wondered.

"I've been on lock down these past couple of weeks. For my own personal reasons, I guess. But, that doesn't mean that it's fair to you, because it's not. And, as horrible as it sounds, I think it took me seeing you cry to realize that. I hope that doesn't make me a bad person. I'm trying to change, for _you_."

"What? He couldn't believe that last sentence. It was like a giant brick wall had just been bull-dozed down. He could already see the bright light of hope shining from behind it.

"You don't have to tell me why you're upset. But, regardless, it's time for _me_ to step up. I'm going to tell you my story."

"Really?" he asked, reaching forward to caress her cheek. She wrapped her hand around his.

"I still can't promise you love," she reminded him. He nodded, well aware of the heartbreaking truth. "You know that. But, I told you that I would try. And, I'm keeping my word because you're too important to me."

"I love you," he whispered knowing he wouldn't get anything in return. Right now, he wasn't sure that really mattered.

"That's why I don't want to lose you. I don't want to end up pushing you away, like everyone else in my life."

"Don't even worry, Rachel. That's never going to happen." He promised, holding her hands in his.

"Okay," she nodded. "Then, I'm ready." "If I asked you to come somewhere with me, would you?"

"Do you even have to ask?" The weight against his chest continued to loosen.

"There's a place, somewhere in the woods that I've been too afraid to visit since I've returned." She told him as they jumped to the ground. Hand in hand, they took off at full vamp speed. Stopping, he took in the image the moon's light allowed them both to see. He looked to Rachel, waiting.

"Okay, let's begin."

* * *

 **Sorry for the long wait guys. I've been so busy with college starting in just a couple of days. Also, I apologize for the cliffhanger. I thought it would be a better idea to present Rachel's story in her POV. With that being said, in the next chapter, you will definitely get you for all of your kind reviews! Hope to update really soon! :) -Kat**


	18. The House That Broke Me

**Chapter 17**

"Okay, let's begin."

That was about an hour ago.

Now, she watched him closely, trying to make sense of words not yet spoken. Desperately, she studied the angelic angles on his face. More than anything, she wanted to know exactly what was cooking up behind the perfect sculpture.

But, as anticipated before, she knew the image before them would hold all of his attention for the time being. She, herself, was surprised how it hadn't yet stolen her's.

Its close proximity did exactly what she knew that it would. This explained her avoidance of it for about as long as she'd been supernatural. The ominosity couldn't be missed, even if one had both eyes closed and covered. The shadows provided from the moonlight did nothing to lessen this.

What was once the largest and most appreciate home in Crystal Willow was now nothing more than an abandoned structure, slowly being sucked under by the earth.

Like magnets pulling at each other, she followed shortly behind as Finn broke his trance and drifted forward. They still lingered in a silence. But, it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, comforting may have been all that it was. This gave her time to think before she was expected to lay it all on the line. Crossing her arms, she looked up at all that was left.

Nothing about it was the same from her memory. The moon highlighted many changes that her eyes couldn't miss. Vegetation had taken control, for one. The first thing she noticed was that the familiar dirt-covered welcoming passageway for traveling carriages was now a meadow, knee-high with a mixture of grass, ferns, and poison ivy.

Then, she noted the disappearance of the two decorative brick posts at the beginning of the entryway. Looking along the ground of where she remembered they were placed, she could make out broken bricks.

The place was constructed in its locations for the intents and purposes of being far away from the woods. There was nothing Nathaniel and his father hated worse. She could remember their scoffs at the idea of living like peasants.

" _Dear Amelia, that's nonsense," Nathaniel easily dismissed her request of leaving the home for the day to go about on her journeys. "What's next, running with the wolves?"_

" _It's beautiful," he still could not be convinced. "It's nature."_

" _Don't be ridiculous." He rolled his eyes. "It's dirty and dangerous. No telling the wild animals and insects infesting it."_

" _I wish you wouldn't speak that way of the place I love."_

" _You shouldn't love such places as the woods." He picked up his coffee and moved into the study. "End of story. You're not going."_

Now, well, a smile threatened her lips thinking of the impeccable irony. Gigantic cedars towered over everything: the gardens she loved, the outhouses, the horse stables, the _home_ …

It was an entirely different story, the _home_. She stared up at the structure, thinking of nothing more than a king falling from his power. In many ways, that's exactly how it appeared to be. The glossy, white wooden castle that it once had been was now rotting to pieces. Drowning in vines from every angle, the glass on the windows was either shattered or nonexistent. The porch was also missing its famous rocking chairs and decorative railing.

She shuddered with horror, remembering the last time she'd been on the broken balcony that seemed to be staring her down at the moment.

 _With arms pinned firmly behind her back, she screamed bloody murder. Blood rushed to her head as Nathaniel had her dangling over the railings. One misstep and it would all be over. She'd been praying for it for the past few minutes._

" _You see that?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Scream as loud as you want, love. No one's gonna come. It turns out you're as worthless to the rest of 'em as you are to me."_

" _Please," she cried, embarrassment flooding to her cheeks with the blood. The skirt of her dress found its way above her head, blowing to the light breeze outside. It was broad daylight and she was exposed for anyone to see. To make matters worse, the servants working around the front of the home knew not to bat a lash in their direction. Any fight with Nathaniel on their end was a fight lost._

" _Please!" she cried. "Nathaniel, let me go!"_

" _If you insist!" her heart plummeted, feeling his grip loosen._

" _No, no, no!" Her arms swung, hands blindly reaching for any portion of the house that would help prevent her untimely demise._

She tried to shake the memory clean, along with all other memories that came flooding back at the sight of this place. She thought being a vampire now would give her some sort of coping loophole. Maybe she thought that if she came here, being stronger now than she ever was before, she could somehow suppress the feelings. Maybe she thought that Finn being at her side would change that effect. But, standing here now, she knew that that wasn't the case. She felt more like that little human girl right now than the night she took her last dying breath.

"I've been here before," Finn whispered, severing her thoughts. She was internally grateful. "Sophomore year, Meghan Taylor's Halloween party…I remember because it took forever for us to locate it."

"This place has always sort of been party central, I guess." She remembered the many times she was forced to whip on a smile and a heavy dress. Her dormant insides were still sculpted by the painful corsets.

"So, you lived here," he assumed as they made their way closer. He offered his arm as they slowly ascended the front steps. Wrapping her own around his, she trained her vision below her. She hardly realized how similar these steps were to the ones on the house they lived in now. Pushing open the familiar door, now missing a doorknob, the smell immediately enveloped her.

Stumbling back, she would've hit the floor of the rotting porch if it weren't for Finn's agility. Holding her upright with one hand firmly against her back and the other on her arm, she kept her eyes shut. Was it even possible? After more than one hundred years, how could the inside smell exactly the same? It was very unpleasant to her heightened senses, nauseating even.

Fighting off every army her will had to offer, they treaded further into the sitting room. Finding a cigarette lighter left behind from this supposed Halloween party, Finn lit one of the many deserted candles above the fireplace. It was then that she was met with the familiar wallpaper, paintings, and sheet-covered furniture. This only furthered her delirium.

"To answer your assumption," she turned back to him. Maybe if she could make some kind of comedy out of all of this, she'd feel better and be distracted enough to get through it. Despite his previous state, she was pretty sure Finn would return it easily. His presence was a lot more beneficial to her right now than he knew.

He'd been distracted by his own explorations. He stopped running his fingers along the withering floral pattern of the wallpaper to acknowledge her. Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, he asked, "What assumption?"

"That I lived here," she reminded him, moving across the room slowly. She was cautious of the soft spots on the rotting floors. Lifting the golden rectangular frame in her hands, she removed the sheet draped over it.

Finn moved closer to her, trying to gain a better look of the painting in the candle light. "That's you?"

"I don't remember who painted it," She was being honest. It showed up by her door one morning. To this day, she still believed that it was another one of Nathaniel's "I'm sorry" purchases. The only problem, she didn't remember posing for this portrait.

"So," he walked away, moving closer to another painting on the opposite end. This one, unlike hers, still hung on the wall. It was the image of pure agony, the starring face in all of her nightmares. It was _him_. "All these people, you knew them?"

"We're getting ahead," she could only smile at him. All signs of sorrow gone from his features, anticipation remained. She could tell he was on his toes. "I don't want to reveal any spoilers. Chronological order is kind of my style, as I took your story was in as well."

"Okay, now you've only piqued my interests," he raised a brow. "I have to know. Give me one spoiler."

"What?" she asked. "No way. The whole thing will be thrown off."

"Just one," he folded his hands against each other, bringing them to his lips. She rolled her eyes, taking in his pouting puppy dog expression. "Pwease, Bewwy. Pwetty, pwetty pwease…"

To her utter distaste, she instantly caved. Maybe it had to do with the fact that she couldn't keep a straight face with him and that voice. "Fine," she sighed.

"Go," he smiled.

All joking aside, she dropped her gaze. "This is where I died."

When she returned to study his expression, his eyes shocked her. They were already trained on hers. They were, somewhere deep within, almost understanding. His face remained blank, but his eyes, they said it all.

"I figured that if I told you my story in the place that I fear the most, it would make me a bit stronger, make it a bit easier to loosen some of those emotional barriers that keep me chained up and push people away."

"Are you sure?" Finn asked. "I don't want you to go out of your way for me. If this place scares you, we can leave."

"No," she assured him. "I'm more than sure. This needs to happen. It's for my own benefit, for us. In fact, why don't I go gather some firewood?" She turned to head back toward the door. "It's freezing in here and that candle won't last much longer. I'm sure the fireplace is still working, and if not, well, I wouldn't mind seeing this place burn to the ground."

She watched him uncover the once lavish, Victorian-styled couch. "I'll be a matter of seconds. Then, we can begin." He nodded.

She kept her promise. He didn't even get the chance to brush the dust away and sit before she was moving back into the room, a handful of log she found by hacking apart one of the nearby trees.

It was a challenging process, but once the fireplace was lit, the room became more comfortable. She composed her painful reminiscing for Finn's sake, moving over to the couch to begin things. Folding her legs Indian style, she waited until he was completely settled to begin.

Biting her lip, she took in the image in front of her. The bright orange glow hit his face perfectly. This elevated his features. She swore she'd never seen another more beautiful. It made her feel better.

He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes playfully, noting her reverie.

"Okay," she chuckled. "Let's begin."

"Let's," he mocked.

Her smile never wavered. But, it wasn't because of Finn. This time, it was because her early childhood was beginning to come back into play.

"I remember everything about my early life. It was the best time of my _entire_ life. The best I'd ever been. The time where I felt most alive," she began, hearing her father's laugh in her head as an automatic side effect to the nostalgia. "I lived the way any young child would've dreamed."

"Even though there really wasn't anything exceptional about it, I sort of viewed it as my own perfect piece of heaven. I was happy and with the way that I was raised, that was all I was taught to worry about."

"Born in 1845, my parents were Joseph and Anna-Claire Berry, naming me Amelia after my grandmother who died that same year." "We were poor, of course. Fortune was well reserved for those who resided inside the town. We, on the other hand, had a small house on the outskirts."

"We got by well enough, so that never really bothered me. In the many acres of land that we had, my father kept cattle. Most of our basic needs were met by this. Milk, cheese, meat… He even had a small garden in the back of the house for vegetables and fruits."

"Anything else that was a necessity, he would take the hour-long trip and get it." "The place, in which our home was, housed most of the region's tobacco supply. So, we also benefited from that too."

"We received extra profits any time the rich men in town came looking to buy. At first, it was an occasional thing. Joseph would go out maybe two days during the week to harvest. Then, word spread like wildfire, sending more and more people. The big shots, as anyone around where we lived would call them."

"Rain or shine, night and day, sweat and blood, my father was out there giving the men what they wanted." She felt her knuckle crack as she clenched her fist, "The same men who ridiculed us behind his back because of our social rank."

"I looked up to my dad. Any person would be able to tell you that, looking into my eyes whenever he was around. He was like my own Hercules or something. When he wasn't around, it felt like the world stopped spinning." She lowered her head. "And, this feeling came a lot, especially when he was going into town more often as I got older."

"I couldn't be mad at him, though. He was doing it for us," She nodded in assurance to herself. "I constantly reminded him of how much I appreciated him and all that he did. My mother, as well."

"But, my father was the kind of guy who liked his actions to go unnoticed. So, to my absolute dismay, he always brushed it off. As long as we had food on our table, clothes on our backs, and wool during the winter, he assured us that he was content. No matter the cost he would have to pay to get us there."

"This continued to be the way of things until I was about five or so."

"My mother was from town. The 'inner circle', if you will… So, she'd had a lifetime full of experiences to know better than to involve me with the people. She hated the environment in which she was raised. Only getting her escape the moment she met my dad." "So, I was never allowed to ask what they were like, but from what I heard my mother tell my father when she thought I wasn't listening, they appeared to be like a pack of angry mutts."

"With this being said, I never was allowed into the town when my father went. I had certain morals to upkeep, a loving and generous personality to obtain. My mother willingly agreed to watch me while he was away, choosing to teach me the way in which she viewed life."

"I was too young to really tell if she was intelligent or just going on what she remembered as a child when she started homeschooling me. Either way, I was taught something." She chuckled. "Thinking about it now, she was definitely wrong on some of the facts. But hey, at least she tried, right?"

"Other than that, there really weren't many things to physically do for a normal person around the house."

Finn stopped her. "Why do you say it like that? Why do you say 'normal person'?"

She smiled, "Well, of course I wasn't normal to society. I wasn't focused on growing to be proper and poised, crossing my legs and dotting my I's. Instead, every day was a new adventure when I stepped outside. I would find so many things to stick my head into. I lived off of my imagination."

"I think this sent my parents off the deep end." She laughed, "I got so carried away that I sometimes got lost. And then there were the days when my mind would be too consuming and I'd be home after dark. They were frantic always taking the worse out of the situation as concerned parents usually did." "One of the consequences, I remember, was being confined to my room for about a week. I sure as hell did not take well to it, either."

"You know, sometimes I miss that." She whispered, taking a moment to reflect on the way she remembered feeling as a child.

"Miss what?" Finn asked.

"Oblivion," She admitted. "At that age, the only problem I faced was being a little too curious."

"What changed?" he wondered. His face moved closer by an inch.

"Many things," she told him. "But, to start off, my mother began to show symptoms of consumption."

"I still hadn't reached the double-digit portion of my life, so things were a little confusing in my head. Life was changing, that was obvious. I just couldn't quit grasp the reason behind these changes. One day she was smiling and laughing with me and the next, she was lying before me, looking frail and lifeless."

"I couldn't understand, but somehow I knew there was nothing I could do to prohibit the crumbling. So, I forced myself to accept. The physical deterioration of my mother, the shambles of what had been, the jabbing pains caused by my father's facial expressions… He was no longer the person that I adored. His loving smile had faltered. In its place, I had not yet picked up on, was grief."

She frowned, remembering the blonde of her mother's hair, the hazel of her eyes, the colorful dresses she used to sew. Rachel was only seven when she passed, but there were plenty of things that would never go away, no matter the time that would come and go.

"A group of women came to the house shortly after that. Nurses, now thinking about it. They were like lightening, emotionlessly prancing around the house, gathering a briefcase of her things and whispering to themselves. Before I knew it, my father was helping them load everything into a waiting carriage outside, including her."

Tears, the first of what she knew would be many, threatened to spill from her eyes. "I was standing in the doorframe, taking it all in. I was still trying to put the pieces together, I guess. I hadn't gotten an explanation and I hated the way things felt. Finality, for example, was what I sensed."

"She met my eyes for just a split second, and I swore I could see her crying too. I watched her struggle to lift her hand in a farewell wave, and before I knew it my father was at my side, lifting me into his arms, watching the carriage disappear behind the trees. I didn't know that that would be the last time I would see her. But, it was."

"Rachel," Finn whispered through the fire-lit room."I'm so sorry."

She nodded, reaching for his hand that was already there for her to grasp. "It was the day of her funeral that I really got a taste of the reasons why she kept me hidden from people in town. Her parents learned of her passing and offered to host her funeral as means for an apology to my father." "I'll never forget the way the boys and girls my age, dressed in much fancier black attire, looked down to me as I stood at my father's side in front of the procession. My curiosity no longer held any type of appeal after that. I knew then that she was right and that I never wanted to be associated with them ever again."

"It took a while for things to resemble some sort of normal after that. It would never be _my_ definition of it again. I knew that. But, like before, Joseph put his own self aside and busted his ass to make sure that things would begin to look up for me."

"In the beginning, it was nearly impossible. I didn't go outside as much. I think I was too concerned with his well-being. He withdrew in many ways. He stayed home every day, cutting the tobacco business to a halt and arguing with any men from town who showed up unexpectedly. Time with him also became strained. He couldn't look me in the eyes eating dinner; he forgot to read my bedtime stories."

"It was like he lost his soul on the way back from the funeral, and the shell of himself just wandered, trying so hard to find it and pick up where we left off."

"One night, he got mad drunk while he thought that I was asleep. And, I was… in the beginning. But, the sound of glass shattering jolted me from bed. When I found him, he was on the floor surrounded by the shards, sobbing, pounding his bloody fists against the wood, and begging for any type of god to take his suffering away."

"I could physically see the change his face made when he saw me watching. He was bewildered with himself for letting down that guard enough for me to see it. That was the lowest he'd ever gotten. From there, he vowed to me that that would never happen again. And, he kept that promise."

"His efforts could have taken out a sea full of the strongest ships. And, I don't think I ever got a chance to tell him how grateful I truly was for that. He magically came across his soul again one day, and from there came the building of a new type of foundation that could never again be destroyed."

"Growing up, I didn't really care about having a lot of companions. If anything, all of my friends were imaginary. But, Joseph, he was more than just my best friend. My father was my lifesaver, my hero. And I knew, more than anything, that he felt the same way about me."

"That's how I discovered my love for the woods. It was like our little safe haven, I guess you could say. Like me, he had all of these negative memories bundled up on the inside of his head, so he didn't like to stay in the house."

"We started a new tradition." She chuckled, "We must've made about a thousand different trails in that forest. We carved our names into the dirt, picked the wildflowers, dangled our feet over the cliff out-looking the falls… However, it was the sunsets that I always seemed to enjoy the most. The weather wasn't always on our side. But, when it was, the orange glow that the sun would give off… It was just so beautiful and peaceful to watch. The wolves howled, the bees buzzed, the birds chirped… And my father, he sang to me. I would rest my head against his shoulder and squeeze his hand in mine, never wanting to let it go as I listened to my lullaby."

She began to hum the sound so perfectly clear in her head. The words would be on a forever loop.

 _My darling, a sun so bright and a sky so blue…_

 _My darling, I dream of a place, just me and you._

"I actually used to fall asleep a lot like that. He'd have to carry me home. But, he said he didn't mind. He knew it was a day well spent." Finn was smiling at her when she looked up. "He liked being out there with me because he knew her spirit was with us. Without distractions from the outside world, he knew that that was the place where we could be happy again; all three of us."

"We never got tired of it and we never dropped the habit. Even as I got older and I started to change, things remained the same. People whispered, called us delusional even, but I didn't care and neither did he. We were in our own perfect world and nothing was going to interrupt that."

"By the time I hit my sixteenth birthday, I had heard of what other girls my age were doing. Getting married, having _children_ … Quite frankly, it scared the hell out of me. At the time, I was still running free and using my imagination to my advantage. That other life would never suit me well. At least, not at the age I was."

"There were even more benefits for me. Since I was older, my dad trusted me with our horses. I can't even explain to you the feeling of riding at full speed atop those animals. I swear to you every time I got to the ground, I was nowhere close to sober."

"It's what I was doing early one morning when I rounded the trees and found an unfamiliar carriage on the dirt in front of my house, the coachman patiently waiting before it. I didn't like the way it looked. It put the image of that dreadful day that my mother died back into my mind and that was enough to make me skeptical of what was happening inside."

"I took every chance I had to stall, even slowing down my steps before getting to the door. There was a man inside with my father. That much I could tell when I picked up on the sound of his voice. And, to some extent, it relieved me. Maybe I was assuming that it was probably another from town, coming to negotiate a deal on tobacco or something."

"What was it?" he asked.

"More along the lines of, who was it." Rachel replied. "Giuseppe Maddox was the first to greet me. Something was off about my father's expression, however. He seemed deep in thought, unhappily perplexed about something. It took him about two minutes to come to and realize that he should be standing from the table as well."

" _Ah, Amelia, we've been waiting for you." The man's raspy voice pierced through the room._

 _She was in no proper physical shape to be curtseying in front of a prestigious male from town. She was covered in dirt from exploring. Her hair had fallen from its up-do due to the wind from horse riding. And, she was wearing one of her less important dresses, the different colored fabric patches more than noticeable._

" _Who are you?" he took her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckle despite the dirt._

" _A good ole' friend of your father's," he announced. Joseph's expression spoke nothing of the sort. "We were actually just having a little chat. Would you care to join us?"_

 _Did she really have a choice? The answer to that question was pretty obvious with the way he held out the wooden chair for her. Who did this man think he was, trying to make her feel comfortable in her own home? Her father still didn't speak a word._

"What did he want?" Finn asked.

"He came to make a deal with my father." She started again. "Of course, he was the mayor. But, the Maddox's also had control over most of the profitable land. It was their side-business, per se. That's how they had so much money."

"He wanted a rightful claim. It was as simple as that. Joseph wouldn't have to give up the house or his farm…And, in exchange he promised that he would reap the benefits."

"The benefits?" She grimaced when Finn reflected her same reaction at the time.

"He had only one son. _Nathaniel Maddox,_ " finally saying it aloud, the name felt like fire to her tongue. "And, apparently he was at the rightful age to be auctioned off. Men were already starting to line their daughters up, everyone wanting a piece of that delicious pie."

"In return for the tobacco, he was offering to give me the golden fork and knife. He was willing to make _me_ Nathaniel's bride."

"It seemed outrageous. And, I was so sure that my dad felt the same way that I did. That's how it usually worked. We were always so in sync with one another's thoughts. There was no way he'd allow him to take his only daughter. I'd always have a choice when it came to love. That was the number one rule established in our household."

"So, what happened?" Finn asked.

"He was being quiet because he already agreed to the deal."

"Seriously?" she nodded.

 _The top portion of her dress was soaked, along with her chest, her neck, her cheeks, and last but not least, her eyes. But, she couldn't think about any of that now. The flush that the waterworks were adding to her cheeks and the clogging of her nose held no interest to her. The tight grip she held on the sheets of her bed and the feel of the soaked pillow against her face did nothing to distract her from her head._

 _Only about an hour ago she kicked the packed briefcase to the floor, sending every article pooling out of it. Joseph had given her this amount of time to collect herself. He probably already felt guilty enough. She assumed he didn't want to add to that fire._

 _In a room filled with the things and the childhood that she would soon be forced to leave behind, she sobbed restlessly on her bed. She couldn't believe this was happening. She didn't want to believe that it was. She didn't even want to think of any of this anymore. She already had a headache. She already had enough that scared her to absolute death._

 _In a matter of hours, they would come back,_ him _accompanying his father this time. And she would be dragged out, against her own will, into a life that she'd all but wanted; a life she'd spent so many of her earlier years being taught by her mother to avoid._

 _The light knock against the wood of the door sent her in an upright position. Using the back of her hands, she rushed to wipe away the wet. "Come in," the whisper was faint, exhausted._

 _As he moved slowly across the room, she recognized his expression. It was the same one he swore to her that she'd never have to see again. It was the same one he wore around the time the first woman in his life was stolen away from him. It was eerie, somber, agonizing…_

 _She couldn't stand to look at it any longer. Her head fell as he carefully positioned himself beside her. "I couldn't stand being out there, hearing the way you are in here."_

" _You had a choice," she huffed, trying to break off a sob building in her chest. "You're choosing wrong."_

" _In some ways, yes, I know that." He looked to her. "It wasn't an easy decision for me to make."_

" _Then, why did you?" she cried, losing all forms of composure. "How could you, Papa? How could you just sell me off like cattle?"_

" _You know it's not that way."_

" _I don't know anything," At this point the pain was irrevocable. "I thought you were my best friend. I thought I could trust you. I thought you_ loved _me."_

" _I do!" he pulled her into arms once so comforting. Now, well, they seemed to lose that effect. "Oh, my sweet baby, Amelia, I do! More than you will ever know! It's why I'm doing this!"_

" _How could that possibly be true?" she shouted against his chest. "If you truly loved me, you would send them away!"_

 _He pulled her away, maintaining a firm grasp on both of her shoulders. She could see the tears testing his eyes as well._

" _You are my life," He choked. "Of course, I don't want them to take you. But, they have to."_

" _Why?" she demanded._

" _What they're offering for you in return is more than I could've imagined. A life much better than the one I had; a life that I know you won't get if I keep you behind, confined and oblivious to what the outside world has to offer."_

" _What does any of that matter to me if it's not what I want, papa?" she shook her head furiously._

" _Because, it's the life that you deserve," the pain on his face increased the more she argued against him. "You can actually be with real people, this time. Make real friends, have actual conversations with people your own age…"_

" _I'm not concerned about that. You're the only friend that I need."_

" _No more deprivation, no more struggling. No more rags on your back. You'll have high quality clothing, the right amount of food on the table…You won't be partially warm during the harsh winters… You'll be fully warm. You'll have a nice home, helpful servants to attend to your every need. Everything that I just couldn't give to you and desperately wished that I could for so long is being placed in your hands. And, for what in return? A little land? How could I turn away from that?"_

 _She wanted, more than anything, to be angry with him. She wanted to put up a fight, point her finger, and say it was all his fault. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs about how he was betraying her and turning his back on her when she needed him the most. But, she just couldn't… She couldn't find the will._

 _Instead, she thought of the possibility that everything he was saying right now was true. She took into account what this was doing to him. His face seemed to be evidence enough that it was no cake walk._

 _He was being selfless as he always had before. This didn't appear to be a gain for him. He probably wouldn't even accept the other benefits from the offer. If anything, it was a_ sacrifice _._

 _He was giving up his only daughter, the only shred of light left in his life, in hopes that she'd get everything he was never able to have, never able to provide._

 _She just couldn't find the power to wrap her mind around that. She couldn't find the power to accept it._

 _Unlike Joseph, she_ was selfish. _Just as his was, her happiness was at stake. And instead of being as compassionate, she wasn't willing to lay it on the line just yet. She didn't want to surrender._

 _She didn't say anything for a long time. Instead, she listened to the crickets chirping in the early night. She listened to the slow ticking of the grandfather clock in the next room. Lastly, her father was muffling sobs on the side of her. The sad part, this couldn't pull away her attention._

 _In that moment she sensed something. It was the same something she felt watching them carry her mother away, the same feeling she got watching the lowering of her coffin into the ground that cold and rainy Wednesday afternoon. It was_ finality _._

 _She closed her eyes then, hoping by some long-shot miracle that this was all just a really bad nightmare. She would wake up soon, she told herself. When she would open her eyes, it'd be a brand new day and her father would be waiting by the door to take their horses out to the falls. She'd smile, agree, and then race him to the stables. She'd win, of course. And, when they finally got there, she'd be the first to dip her toes into the water._

 _In the midst of this hope, she fell asleep._

"I guess I really don't know what I was expecting," she returned from her thoughts, Finn being graciously patient with her. "Maybe, somewhere in my subconscious, it was easier for me to picture him short, with an unflattering beard and a beer gut. But, I sort of knew that that couldn't be true since I'd already seen what Giuseppe looked like and men were lining up their daughters from all age ranges."

"What I wasn't expecting was for him to be down-right flawless." She cringed at the memory. "I was completely intimidated the moment my father allowed the two of them to enter the next day."

"Here I stood in rags with messy hair scrambling for the shreds of my self-esteem, while he looked like an angel of some sort."

She remembered the first time her eyes met his appearance. She was fixated, as any other girl would've been. He was tall, maybe a 5''9, but nothing in comparison to Finn. She took pride in the fact that the boy next to her now would easily tower over Nathaniel. This made the harsh memory of the ass a little easier to endure.

His build came next. Every muscle in his body was easily defined through every article of clothing he wore. It gave off that "knight in shining armor" vibe. And, as hesitant as she was about everything, she couldn't turn away; all previous thoughts thrown far out the window.

This mixed with the ivory tone of his skin and the dark brown curly texture of his hair had her completely mesmerized.

"His eyes are what I remember the most about him, though. To this day, I'm still haunted." She fixed her gaze below her, feeling the eyes in the painting behind beam into the back of her head. "They were a piercing type of blue. Like the brightest sky or the clearest ocean. It wasn't that hard to become transfixed looking into them."

"And, his voice, well that's a whole different story. You didn't stand a chance once he spoke to you. His accent flowing straight to your ears like honey… Much like what your accent does to me, Finn… But, his was definitely of American descent. He just spoke in a different tone than the others around him. More sophisticated, I suppose…"

"Funny, because when it came down to things, he really wasn't that intelligent. Of course, he had everything that his father taught him. But, there were a few times when I knew better than he did." "He just knew what he was doing when he was doing something. For example, on that first day when he was intent on charming the life out of me, much to my internal battles against it, he passed with flying colors."

"I moved in the house with him that day, my room being just right up those stairs over there. I'd show you if the floor wasn't so brittle." She told him.

"Things were going the way they intended. I had officially entered the first stage of life with the Maddox's. Of course, I was still completely scared out of my mind… However, the knowledge that I wasn't completely alone made me feel a little better. I was allowed to visit my father on the weekends, so that was a plus… Also, it was my time in this house that I became acquainted with my second real best friend."

"Her name was Sarah. Because she and her mother were indoor servants, I was originally instructed not to socialize with them. But, I just couldn't help myself. We were the same age and Nathaniel and Giuseppe were usually gone on important business. So, I confided in her, and after fully gaining her trust, she did the same."

"It made it easier to forget my predicament. It was like we were just two kids, having fun like we should. We talked a lot, brushed each other's hair…Hell, I even let her play dress up with me a few times in my lavish closet. Since Nathaniel left so often with his work, he would return with all of these ball gown dresses and jewelry. I never once experienced a shortage in pearls and diamonds. It added to the fun of the make believe shows we would put on in my room when her services weren't needed elsewhere. In times like those, it was hard to believe our positions; that she was somehow inferior to the person that I was. I didn't like to think that way, because she wasn't. I often reminded her of it."

"It stayed constant for the first couple of months, the situation. I guess I was grateful for that. Our meetings with each other lacked intimacy. We were always accompanied by a third party, either being some of his close friends and their wives or his father. It gave me an excuse to create some distance. It gave him a distraction from me."

"Then, one day, something clicked in him. I remember it so vividly because it was the same day he gave me my engagement ring. It was just the two of us at dinner. And, I'm sure he initially hoped for it to go well. But, things started to shift. He was drinking so I'm sure that played a big role."

"The casualty of the conversation turned business-like. It was like I was just another one of his clients who he was propositioning to. He laid down the law. Told me of what he'd decided for our future together. He told me that he changed his mind. He originally wanted to wait to see how things would go, give me some time to adjust. But, now, he'd somehow convinced me that he'd fallen madly in love and didn't want to wait a second longer. Our wedding date was to be sometime within the upcoming months and then a month after that, he was expecting me to conceive his first child."

"Wow," Finn commented.

"I know, right?" Rachel sighed. "He was insane."

"Keep in mind that I was seventeen years old at the time. And, not just that…I was also terrified out of my mind at the idea. Of course I was going to object." She lowered her head again. "He didn't take that lightly. Instead, he got handsy. He was grabbing me by my dress one minute and getting into my face, speaking with clenched teeth the next."

"I watched those blue eyes become unamused with my presence, like he became bored after too long or something. Then he sent me backwards, flipping over my chair and bruising my tailbone. That was the first time that I experienced his temper, his violence."

"He came in my room later that night with a rose. Apparently he'd found the time to sober up, crying with some excuse as to what got him worked up. He gave me his promises, his "I love you", and then he was on his way."

"The worst part was that I actually believed him," she spoke through clenched teeth. "The episodes were staggered after that. In the beginning, it would be weeks after he promised not to do it again that he'd strike, the ways of his violence never overlapping each other. It all depended on his mood."

"If he was only mildly angry, he'd spare me unnecessary harm. He'd used the palms of his hands to slap me across the face, or grab my arms and shake me until my neck and my shoulders were stiff."

"It was days when the world really did a number on him that he used his fists and feet to beat me." She winced thinking about the pain and all of the times her cries weren't enough to save her.

"After that, he sort of _liked_ it. It made him feel better about the guilt and stress he harbored. He could release himself of that. He didn't even need the alcohol anymore. In his own sadistic way, I was his punching bag and there wasn't a day that he didn't take advantage of it." "I know what you're thinking. I had plenty chances to make a run for it. I could've gotten out."

"That's not what I was thinking," Finn corrected her. "I was wondering how someone could be so malicious to someone like the person that you are and get away with it, over and over again."

"Like I said before, he was really good at what he did. He knew what he was doing. More so, I guess that I didn't know what _I_ was doing. He was a monster. He will always be a monster. There's no arguing that. I guess I was just so wrapped up in his manipulations, that I just couldn't see it for myself."

"I fed off the lies he served. Pure flattery, as it was. I'd also never been with someone before. I mean, I watched my parents together as a child. But, I'd never been in love. So, I guess it made it that much easier to perceive that that's what I felt when I was around him. I didn't want that to change. I didn't want to lose that 'feeling'. It was comfortable. It was easy."

"I held on, restlessly, waiting for something to give. I allowed him his way back in under my skin: taking the apologies, the crap gifts, the promises of love and of better…"

"Handing second chances out like tissues, I thought I knew all that he was capable of. Still, I found it so unexpected every time he decided to strike again. I guess I should've been stronger, found the will to get some kind of help. But, I never did. It never even crossed my mind."

"No matter my efforts though, things only got worse. His force was merciless, pinning me to the ground or against my bed, or against the walls… He whispered in my ears, saying that no one cared and no one would hear my screams."

"I met the brink of death five times. Five times I allowed myself to experience sheer agony, broken bones and ribs, busted lips, bruises covering every inch of my skin… A lot of it happened during the summer time, so I smothered in winter apparel, trying to hide. My face, on the other hand, there was just no avoiding that one."

"The wedding ended up getting postponed at the last minute. I'd been dreading it as it slowly approached, so the news was like a wave of relief to my ears. Even better, it was because of a business leave, lasting two weeks. Two weeks, I'd get to myself."

"That was my healing period." She explained. "First, I went straight to see my father. I hadn't seen him in all that time. I was covered in bruises and the last thing I wanted was for him to see me like that. So, I waited a while for my face to heal and when it got to the point that I could hide the rest under my dresses, I took the trip and got the chance to catch up with him."

"We went out to the falls again and I swear to you the wave of happiness that came flooding back that day was like being hit head-on by a truck. That was when I decided that the woods would be my escape when things got bad again, as I knew they would."

"Sarah also helped a lot with things. Once Nathaniel left, she felt more comfortable coming into my room and talking to me. I completely opened up to her this time, and in return, she offered so much. She helped distract me from reality when I needed it, offered her ears and shoulders to cry on, gave me her honest thoughts when I needed them… I was relieved to have someone to confide in after all that had happened. I knew that if I didn't have many of the servants on my side as I had, things would be much worse."

"The absence seemed to help him as much as it had me. When they returned, he was a different type of person; the person that I first met all those months before. He was calmer, more romantic. It was very easy for him to wrap me around his finger again."

"He even stopped attacking me for no reason. It was only when I said the wrong things that he acted. Once I learned to keep my mouth shut, things started to look up. His chivalry increased, showing this new desire to court me around town."

"He kept me on his arm as we visited the square, the market; he even offered to buy all the books I wanted when we made the corner to the library. He twirled me around in the streets, introduced me to all of his friends…"

"One day, he even allowed Sarah to accompany us. It was while I was with her, picking out apples at the stand, when I caught them in my peripheral vision."

 _Between the library and the town hall, there was a small alley-way out the view of any bystander. Its dark shadow cast upon the pavement made for the perfect camouflage from the outside world. This particular alley-way could be seen perfectly from where she stood before Sarah at the fruit stand._

 _It was getting a bit suspicious, the amount of time he'd been away from her. On normal days, she couldn't get very far without him returning to her side. But, today, it'd been an hour since she'd seen him. Initially, she thought he got lost in the large crowd. But now, she knew the reason. The red apple in her hand fell to the ground, gaining Sarah's attention._

 _There he was, pinning some girl in a flimsy dress against the hard brick of the library's wall. Her breathing began to stagger, a hand flying to the portion of her torso just below her breasts. Her heart was no longer in its proper place._

 _She blocked out Sarah's questions of concern, watching him sport a seductive smirk and lowering his head to place a kiss against the blonde's expecting lips._

 _She was angry; with him, with herself…But, more than that, she was envious. She craved the attention this girl was receiving. His motions were so effortless. He hadn't been that way with her in so long. Oh, how much she was being tortured watching the two._

 _She wanted the girl to suffer for putting her in this mental state._

" _Ms. Berry, I'm truly sorry."_

" _As am I," she nodded, feeling the familiar nonchalance tug at her heart. So many horrible things had happened, so she only chose the worst to scar her heart. This had to be nothing to her. It had to be._

" _How about we go find somewhere to sit?" she asked Sarah, trying to take the attention away from her cheating fiancé. "I still haven't gotten to tell you about that novel I just finished reading."_

" _Tell me now," Sarah encouraged. "The anticipation is a killer."_

" _The guy finally lays it all on the line for the girl. He tells her that he loves her too, and that he always had. He was just scared to tell her because he thought it would ruin his reputation. In the end, as they're kissing, it begins to rain on them."_

" _How romantic," Sarah smiled, her eyes fluttering. "I wish I had someone to care for me like that…"_

" _Yeah," she nodded her head, "Me too."_

"Emily Fabray, granddaughter of the infamous Matthew." She scoffed mentioning the girl. They never did get along. "It wasn't until that night that I worked up the courage to confront him about it."

 _He offered the courtesy of seeing her up to her room. Stopping short in front of her door, she wanted to try something. It was twisted of her, but at this point, who was judging? Getting onto her tippy-toes, she experimented. She was curious to see if his effortless actions would extend to her tonight._

 _She sighed, feeling the warmth of his breath on her cheek, before dropping his lips there. He then ran his hand against her other cheek, trailing it through her pulled back up-do. He played with the hanging curls a bit before his blue irises fell back onto hers._

" _Have a good night, Amelia," he smiled faintly. "I'll see you in the morning."_

" _Wait," she called. It was against her better judgement, but with the rejection she just faced, she wasn't sure she cared._

 _He turned to face her again._

 _Her voice surprised her. This time, it wasn't in a broken whisper, or an anguished tone. She wasn't hoarse and she didn't fear her life. This time, her voice traveled through the tiny hall with no complications. This time, her larynx was supporting the strength she'd built up inside over the past few hours. This time, it was bold and valiant._

 _There was no going back. For the first time, she felt no regret._

" _Maybe next time you should stick closer to my side, Nathaniel." She nodded, his eyes furrowing in confusion. "What you did today, that was pretty risky."_

" _I don't gather," he replied._

" _Respectable men don't sneak around with harlots."_

 _The words cut through the air like a thousand knives, and not shortly after, his fists followed._

"No matter how bad the beating hurt that night, it felt good to get off my chest. I finally stood up for myself. I was proud."

"It was short-lived, though. Things returned to normal not long after. Only this time, there was an added bonus to my misery. Turns out, Emily wasn't just some side-slut he'd been sneaking around with. I only had to beg that information out of him a couple of dozen times. I finally won him over late one night as he was wallowing in his own pity and my tears did nothing to help."

"He told me about how Giuseppe and Matthew were in the process of negotiating their marriage while they were still in school together. Things trailed off after then, my father holding a bigger appeal to his. They were absolutely devastated, being so hopelessly in love. She left after then, taking the opportunity to travel abroad for extended education. It was only recently that she'd returned."

"I don't know if it was because he was drinking or if he was really saying it just to say it, but he blamed me. To him, I was all of a sudden this big villain standing in the middle of their story." "After that, he was more open to me. He stopped lying, for one. That was a good thing. It made it easier to hate him after an attack. But, it was also just more crucial for me, because her presence was more than apparent in his life."

"He even made a mockery of it. There was a schedule to be followed, most days spent with her. Those days were the hardest, him even having the audacity to bring her into the house. That's how I met her."

"And, the dislike was definitely mutual, let me tell you… She had the mouth of a sailor, just like her grandfather, and she never felt the need to can it, especially in my presence. We were like two lionesses, fighting for affection."

"Of course, she was going to win. There were traits of hers that I could never come close to competing with. I knew this because I often stayed up late at night, just cursing my physical image. Much like her so very pleasant descendant, Quinn Fabray, she had sun-kissed blonde hair, emerald green eyes, tan skin… And her body, well…There was a reason I initially thought she was nothing more than a hooker."

"I wondered what kind of sick joke the universe was trying to play with me. And worse, I was trying to decide if it was even worth it, to try and play back." She didn't even make the effort to wipe her tears. She let them fall, squeezing the hand that had been in hers all this time. Finn didn't flinch at the motion. He just continued to listen.

"No matter how much the idea disgusts me now, I was stupidly in love with him." Her breath trembled, but she continued. "And I couldn't understand…" her voice broke. "I couldn't understand what was wrong with me. Why couldn't I be good enough for him? Maybe I had some kind of glitch or something? Was there something on the outside that I couldn't see but others could? I mean, my father gave me away, right? But, he did it out of his own selflessness. He made that sacrifice because he knew it would benefit me in the end. So, what was Nathaniel's deal? How could this one person that I shamelessly gave every piece of me to, no matter how bad things got, so easily just turn his back on me and choose someone else?"

"Where was _my_ someone else?"

The sobs began and Finn's arms followed not shortly after. On the dusty couch that she couldn't stand to look at, she closed her eyes and cried against him. He ran his fingers through her hair, crooning words of encouragement in her ear.

"You just don't know," was one of his words, confusing her. She decided to let it go, nuzzling deeper into his side.

As she calmed down, she continued with the story, "Did I mention to you that Sarah was my backbone? Since I was now banned from making the trip out of town to see my father, she took his place. She always knew the right words to say to make me feel better."

"I stayed in my room most of the time, not really wanting to be bothered by anyone other than Sarah or the other servants. Public appearances became hard to keep up and I usually spent most of the night by myself at balls and charity events."

"The only time we conversed after then was when I was due for a beating. Literally, it was like fucking doctor's appointments. He'd realize that he hadn't done it in a little while and before I knew it, he came knocking."

"The first time he found out that I finally learned to build up the courage to lock my door was after he'd gotten into a fight with Emily. After she'd stormed out, he went crazy with the liquor. Coming up the stairs to get in a few rounds, I swear I could hear the shock in finding out that he couldn't turn the knob."

"I was thrilled. The feeling overtook me, empowered me with justice. The only problem was that, with Nathaniel, once he set his mind to something there was no stopping him. He pounded until the metal jolted loose and the door flung open. He showed me, then, exactly how my actions revolted him. Would have even raped me, if I hadn't taken the opportunity to grab one of my hard covered books and slam it against the side of his face. I ran to the woods after that, staying the rest of the night, knowing that he wouldn't be able to find me there."

"Shortly after, my seventeenth birthday came around… And still, as he and Emily patched things up, he held a grudge against me because I'd gotten away that one night."

"He wanted me to suffer for hurting him. I wasn't stupid. I could see it in his eyes when he looked at me. So, I avoided him at all costs. And, the change was definitely noticeable. He didn't ambush me, hadn't even touched me in two weeks. It was almost suspicious."

"I didn't understand at the time, but it was because he was planning something much bigger, a type of revenge that there was just no way to easily return from."

"He was smart enough to know that I was on high alert; that I was waiting for him to attack directly. So, he came at me from a different angle. He planted a set of my diamond earrings in Sarah's pocket while she wasn't paying attention and later brought the "robbery" to his father's attention. They investigated around the house and once it was her turn to be questioned, she didn't come up empty handed." She raised her voice feeling the anger take its toll.

"It wasn't enough that I had to be in the room to watch. He waited until her mother heard her screams and came running in to unleash the real pain. As she thrashed under his hold, I lunged myself at him, trying to protect her at all costs. But, there was no point. He was too strong."

"Giuseppe helped him pay off the police, to make it something more than it really was." She shook now. "The whole town gathered around like it was some circus coming into town. And, he didn't care how I felt. I would be there to watch. That was an order."

"I held Nadine in my arms that morning, listening to her screams and cries, as they hanged her only daughter."

"Sarah's death was in spite. He'd killed her because of me, because I rebelled against him. He didn't even allow them to give her the proper funeral that she deserved. Instead, he hired someone to dig her grave in someone's backyard, like a dog or something. Where was the justice in that?"

"Things went on as if nothing even happened. The servants didn't dare speak of it. Nadine quit and moved to another home. Everyone continued on with their lives. Everyone, except for me."

"I couldn't. Her absence couldn't be shook. The pain weighed down on my chest like an elephant or something. And there was nothing that I could do about it, no one to talk to about it anymore."

"I shut down, hiding away in my head. I didn't sleep, didn't eat. Like all other things about me that just weren't good enough for him to accept, this bothered him. When he talked to me I didn't acknowledge his presence. I didn't acknowledge anyone's presence."

"Giuseppe seemed to be on my side, for reasons I didn't understand. Maybe he just felt guilty about helping in Sarah's murder. Anyways, he told Nathaniel to let me be, that I needed time to properly heal."

"He didn't agree." "As it came closer to the final month of my human life, Nathaniel became more persistent. He was plotting again. He'd become fed up with my mental absence and was willing to do anything to change that."

"He came in, kicking the door open and grabbing me by my hair, sending me flying to the floor. I was so out of it. I hardly even realized what was happening. Then, something just sort of _changed_."

"There was a new light of hope waiting for me. I could see it. In that small frame of time, I contemplated suicide. I didn't see a problem with it. The pros outweighed the cons. What was a little more pain to me when all of my suffering could soon come to an end? When I could finally see my mother again, my Sarah?"

"In that instant, the fight from my side was over. I didn't thrash, didn't resist his touch. I simply closed my eyes and allowed him to get it all out; pretended to be the inanimate boxing bag that I knew he wished I was."

"That was the last time he ever laid his hands on me without punishment, the fifth and final time he beat me to the brink of death. And, this time, unlike the other four, I swear the grim reaper was an arm's length away. I was so willing to reach out and grab him. I was so willing to finally come to an end. An end, despite my need for it, that never came."

"He left me there, covered in my own blood. He didn't even throw me a second glance, walking out the door. Writhing in pain, I waited for a sign."

"It was the next day when someone found me. I was transported to a local treatment camp like all the other times, given the proper amount of time to heal, and then I was shipped back to this big white house." "I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe some ground rules put down or something, so that that would never happen again."

"Being normal seemed to be their number one priority after situations like these. No one talked about it. No one paid me a second glance. Expected to move forward, that's exactly what things did. A new date had been scheduled for the wedding while plans were already being made for new catering options and location. He continued to sneak around with Emily while I desperately searched for ways to keep myself distracted from the downpour of my thoughts."

"They had these long walkways out back in the gardens that I used to love so much. I spent most of my time out there during the day, not wanting to be cooped up in the house like before. That and I read the same books over and over again until I knew every conversation well enough to act out in my room.

"The weeks easily dwindled away and before I knew it my time as a human was coming to a close. My final downward spiral was expected to make its appearance shortly." She sighed. "They'd already won. That much was obvious. But, somehow, they always found a way to come back and knock me while I was still out."

"We were in town, picking out supplies for some of the garden workers when I heard the whispers."

"There'd been a fire. People were gossiping around us. The poor man had no saving grace. He was trapped in the house, nowhere near any of the windows or doors to escape. If it wasn't for Giuseppe Maddox finding him, his death would have gone unnoticed for weeks. Such a shame and such a tragic loss."

"Joseph Berry burned to death in his quiet little home on the outskirts of town."

"Like the times he'd leave for work when I was a child, the world stopped spinning in that moment. The only difference, this time it was a permanent pause. Every piece of the healing foundation that I thought I'd built back up for myself had easily tumbled back down. I thought that I had already been through my absolute worst. I couldn't think of torture any more painful than all that I'd already endured. So, how on earth was I going to come back from _this_? Easy, I wasn't."

"At least they'd had the courtesy to give him the proper burial, right?" she clenched her teeth. "Wrong."

"Like all other things, it was a mockery; just another fucking show for the people in town." Her lip quivered. "I stood in the back, taking in the whole thing as it poured over us. I knew, as they lowered him into the ground, that I should've been taking that time to say a final goodbye. But, the way they made this, like everything else, about themselves… That angered me. No, not just anger. I was seething, enraged."

"I escaped back to the little house that day, while no one was paying attention. And, when I took it in with my own eyes, I knew that the fire was just a cover-up for what had actually happened. It wasn't just the scarring image of my childhood home, now in black ruins on the ground."

"The land, everything except for the precious tobacco, was trashed. The grass was chopped up into chunks of mud. Our animals, the bulls, cows, chickens… All of their necks had been snapped. But, that wasn't the worst. They'd saved our horses for the big display. Luna and Thunder lay motionlessly next to each other in their stable, blood everywhere and a machete resting beside their ruined bodies."

"I completely lost it, then. It was the last piece of straw to the camel's back. They'd killed him. All signs pointed to it. My hero, my best friend, my heart, my soul, and everything that we had and held so dear had been stolen from me. My father was dead because of them and I knew I had nothing more to lose. So, now, the question was, what was I going to do about it?"

"I made a vow to myself that day. They were finished. They would no longer be able to pretend like nothing happened. They would no longer be able be able to pay people off to help them avoid consequence. I didn't care if I was killed in return. I didn't care if I had to be chased to all ends of the earth. They would suffer, a thousand times worse than I had at their hands."

"I took the machete, assuming that it was the murder weapon they'd used to keep my father trapped in the burning house. And, I was on my way to slaughter them the same way they'd taken down our horses when I was stopped."

"It was a girl, no taller or older than I was, with blonde hair. For some reason, that's all I can remember about her. When I try to conjure up a face, a voice, and a name my mind comes up empty." "She reached for my head and when her hands met me, she somehow knew what was happening."

"She told me that there was another way. An out, as she'd put it." "She told me that I was wasting my time, obviously walking into my own death. Instead, she offered me an alternative."

"A whole new portal was opened up to me, then. She even told me things that I wouldn't have found out for myself until it was too late. For example, Nathaniel didn't know yet that he was to be a father. There was a girl he was with a couple of months before he reunited with Emily. And, she got pregnant."

"The Maddox's," Finn commented. "That's why you were so uncomfortable at dinner. He's their ancestor."

"Margaret, this girl told me her name was. She was poor, like me. She didn't have much, not what she assumed she could've had, giving the child the last name. After all, it was considered royalty."

"She switched the subject back before I could ask any more questions. She didn't want to give too much away. Better yet, she didn't want me to go off the deep end, just yet. Instead, she returned to this 'alternative life'. I thought she was crazy, going on about life after death and being indestructible."

" _Immortality,"_ _she whispered into Amelia's ear._

" _You're insane!" she pushed her away, attempting to run._

 _She stopped her short again. "They killed your father and Sarah, correct? He beat you a numerous amount of times, leaving you for dead while flaunting another girl in your face?"_

 _She stuttered, "H-How did you know that?"_

 _She ignored the question. "Here."_

 _Now resting in her palms was a small vile filled with dark red liquid._

"And so, here we are, Finn. Welcome to the second half of my story."

* * *

 **So, finally, her story is here for all of you to know! It took me a while to try and get everything just perfect. Hopefully i did. Also decided to cut it in half. Sorry if any of you are upset by this. I just felt the chapter was getting a bit too long for me to keep adding more things. So, i hope to get the next one up real soon. Oh, and before i forget... The italisized words are Rachel's memories of specific conversations and portions of the story.. It's her thinking of the time while explaining it to Finn. Didn't want to confuse any of you. She's not leaving anything out. She's told him about all of it like the conversation with her father and seeing Nathaniel and Emily... Okay. Enjoy :)-Kat**


	19. Trust

**Chapter 18**

He watched her face follow the pattern that her fingers were drawing against the satin of the dusty old couch beneath them. Exceeding the level of a goddess as usual, her beauty struck him dead in the chest. The projection of the orange glow against her features was doing tricks on his head. However, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't focus on any of this at the moment.

Instead, his mind seemed to be trained on a type of guilt he was feeling. Yes, he was relieved to finally be sure of the fact that she _was_ Amelia and he wasn't just dreaming of her return. As for everything else, he was still lying to her. No matter how hard he tried to brush that fact off his shoulders, it was the cold truth.

He'd erased her memory and now sitting here, he was allowing her to trail on a very painful past that he knew she didn't want to remember. For them, as she'd put it before.

As much as he wanted to justify his reasoning for the deceit, there were no excuses to make. End of story. It was wrong of him to keep everything from her. He knew it was.

There was just one question to ask.

If he knew it was so wrong, why was he still doing it now? Why had he been doing it from the very first meeting with Rachel?

It was the fear taking over. It had to be. It was like hanging over a cliff, holding on by just a single piece of yarn. If this piece of yarn tore at the slightest, he would fall to his death. If Rachel found out that he took her memory of him away from her mind and was remaining silent for the sake of that… If she found out that he was listening to a story that he somewhat already knew, somewhat already experienced at her side, it would all be over.

Just like she'd said before, while mentioning the memories of her father, they'd _also_ built a strong foundation for themselves these past few months. He'd finally gained her trust. A goal, when meeting her again, that he thought was very near to impossible.

He didn't want to lose that. More importantly, he didn't want to lose her. Not again. He finally had her back. The light of hope was finally shining in his eyes again. She was everything. She had always been everything. So, if staying quiet and keeping secrets kept things this way, who would he be to ruin that? Who would he be to let the truth escape? He couldn't find it in himself yet.

All thoughts aside, he ran a hand through her soft hair, visibly pulling her from the trance she'd fallen into shortly before. The sound of her breathing was more soothing than a steaming cup of coffee and waves crashing on the shore mixed together.

"Right," she nodded. "Sorry. I got caught up in my head, I guess."

"Don't apologize," he shook his head staring into the brown irises that could steal him so easily. "Will and Emma forgot to issue a curfew. Take all the time you need. I'll take the fall if and when it comes to it."

"You know, you're being really gracious about all of this," she smiled half-heartedly. "Any other guy would have been out that door by now."

"You should know me well enough by now to know that I don't fall into the same category as the other guys my age. Gracious is my middle name."

"It's funny that you say 'guys my age'." She chuckled with an expression on her face that—if he wasn't already dead—would've given him a heart attack. It was very easy to feel pleased by the fact that he was momentarily distracting her from some of that gloom from before. Even easier, Puck was completely forgotten.

He'd picked up something from her story to help him with this. After every attack, she let Nathaniel back in, over and over again, with the help of his many excuses. The stress of his business, the influence of his father, the loss of his mother… In the beginning, she thought that this was reason enough to feel guilt for persecuting him as a monster even if he hurt her very badly in return. She was somehow convinced that he had a _reason_.

Much like he thought that Puck had a reason to betray him. That's what worked him up in the first place. But now, thinking about it, he knew that he was wrong. Just like she admitted to knowing that she was as well. Nothing would have stopped Puck and Quinn, just as nothing would've ever stopped Nathaniel from hurting his Amelia. They made the decisions to ruin everything on their own.

So, as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his chest, he would no longer feel guilty. He would simply let it escape his mind and make the vow to move on from his past. Because that's exactly what it was, for the both of them… _The past._

"How is that funny?" he asked her, investing himself back into their conversation. He made a mental note to stop doing that so often. Like mentioned before, they had to take advantage of every moment they had with each other. It didn't matter that they were both immortal. Time would never stop fleeting. He'd already wasted half the night on the nonsense he'd cooked up in his head.

He had to be here with her now. There was nothing he wanted more. The future—their future—was the only thing that mattered now.

"Because you trump everyone at school by like five centuries," she reminded him.

"Well," he playfully rolled his eyes. He lived for their banter. "In my defense, there's Toni and Percy."

"Family doesn't count."

"Didn't realize there were rules to this," He crossed his arms.

"You're old, dude. Get over it."

"Look who's talking," he smirked. "1845, if I remember that correctly, miss Amelia."

"You have no argument," she chuckled. "You still beat me out by like 3 or 4."

"Whoa, that really does make me like some kind of old man pedophile, doesn't it? Maybe I shouldn't hit on you as much."

She shrugged her shoulders, sporting a smirk of her own, inching closer to his face. "Age is just a number, baby."

"Magari," he rolled his tongue the way he used to, when his other language was so fluent. Now, well, that was barely a memory. English had become a big part of who he was once they'd made the move into America.

To his surprise, her eyes widened. She instantly pulled away, ruining the moment they were about to get into. Instead, a full blown smile fell over her lips as she clapped her hands together.  
Pointing at him, she exclaimed, "Ha! Maybe! You just said 'maybe'!"

He couldn't help the rush of the thick, vampire blood to his cheeks. He chuckled, lowering his head. "Way to go, Sherlock Holmes. You solved the mystery."

"You make me so crazy when you speak that way, you know. So, I started googling and I found this website with a whole bunch of translations. I've been preparing myself to bust you! It's working pretty well so far, wouldn't you say?"

"Si," he smiled, caressing her cheek, ice cold despite the blazing fire only a few feet away.

"I'm glad you think so." She beamed, the white of her teeth nearly blinding him. He swore to himself, like millions of times before, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on, the most miraculous miracle to ever occur in this world. Anyone who disagreed with that clearly didn't deserve a lick of her attention.

"So, where were we again?" she asked, clearing her throat after moments of silence. He hoped it was because she was wrapped up in the same type of thoughts that he was.

"The second part of your story," he informed her.

"Right," she bit her lip.

"Like I said before, if you don't feel comfortable telling me this, you don't have to. We can talk about something else-"She interrupted him.

"No," she assured, grabbing his hand. "I already got through the hard parts."

"Okay," he nodded.

"Fair warning, though," she inhaled sharply. "This is where things begin to get a little gory."

"You listened to my worse, remember? Don't expect me to do anything less."

"Okay, so, the mysterious blonde girl and the vile…" he watched her try to make a mental checklist.

No matter how much his wit tested his tongue at the moment, he wouldn't make a joke. This was one of the really big milestones in Amelia's life. He remembered it as if it were just yesterday.

" _Amelia, put the machete down," he begged as she stomped through the dark streets. He maintained a close distance behind her and was seconds away from stopping her short in her path._

 _She was still angry with him. It was obvious. He didn't blame her though. Not every day did one learn that their mate and his family were nothing more than a group of deadly vampires. Creatures of the night, the "believers" chanted, just last night, as the whole town went under in flames._

 _Now, as last night events had been covered up and things returned to normal, he had to find a way to get her to escape with him. But, her anger blocked out any chance he had of convincing. If she wasn't so intent on killing The Maddox's right now..._

" _Go away."_

 _He zoomed in front of her, using his speed to snatch the bloody weapon out of her hands. "You don't know what you're doing."_

" _Give it back!" she screamed. Luckily, they were alone._

" _Amelia, look at me."_

" _I'm just trying to cope, okay?" she cried. "I'm angry; at a lot of things, actually."_

" _I know, I should've told you that I was a vampire sooner. I just wanted to protect you. You know that."_

" _That's not why I'm angry!" She went to fall to her knees, but Finn reached forward and caught her in his arms before the concrete could shatter her bones._

" _They took him, Finn." She choked over her tears. "They took him from me like they've taken everything else. My self-esteem, my pride, my freedom, my safety, my health, my house, my horses, my Sarah, and now, my father is gone because of them…" She continued to cry in his arms, the machete long forgotten beside them._

" _Princess," he whispered into her ear, brushing away the strands of hair falling against her wet cheeks._

" _They need to pay this time," she squeezed her eyes shut against his chest._

" _They will," he promised her._

" _But I want to be the one to do it," she cried._

" _You'll regret it. It stays with you." He lectured. "I won't let you do that to yourself."_

" _You don't know that."_

" _I know enough from experience." He assured her._

" _Let me do this at my own expense." She was doing the begging now._

 _Just then the blonde appeared from around one of the buildings, answering to a whisper he'd aimed her way moments before._

" _Percy?" Amelia asked through her tears._

" _Thank you," Finn nodded in her direction. Walking towards him, she placed the tiny vile into his palm._

" _What's going on?" Amelia demanded._

" _I'm not letting you put yourself at risk." He told her, picking up the machete from the ground. "I will never let you do that."_

" _Finn, please…" she begged, her face falling again._

" _Here," he handed her the object in his palm. "My blood," he answered her questioning look._

" _I won't let you act while you're still human."_

" _So what are you offering? An alternative?" She looked to him for answers._

 _He nodded. It was one simple word. Yet, it felt like so much more. He'd never been so selfish in his life._

" _Immortality."_

He'd compelled her to remember it all in a different way. Any trace of his existence in a moment and the whole thing would be flipped upside down.

"Thinking about it now, I actually surprised myself. With no questions asked, I accepted a mysterious liquid from some stranger in the streets." She began. "Her words were just so convincing, you know?"

"She said that she knew what it felt like, being in a situation like mine, trapped with no one to help her out of it. So, there she was. She said that, even though she came to an unfortunate end at such an early age and didn't get her escape like she'd wanted, she'd help me get mine."

"According to her, my best bet would be to make a theatrical approach. It would create the perfect opportunity to fake my death. No one would ask questions, no one could be suspicious. She'd even have me lay still in a coffin if I had to."

"Handing me the machete, she told me to go to my room, drink the liquid in the vile, and fake my own suicide."

"You did," it wasn't a question or an assumption. It was a memory.

" _You sure?" they both held the machete at an angle. Its pointed end was facing just below her left breast. At any moment, they would drive it right through her heart._

" _A little pain and then a life with you, forever?" she asked. "Is that correct?"_

 _He shamefully nodded. He didn't want her to give up life as a human for him. But, at the same time, there was nothing he wanted more._

" _Then what are we waiting for?" she asked. "I love you."_

 _Before he could say anything else, she moved her hands and a loud gasp filled the dark room. She was dead in the instant. Lowering his head, he gently placed her body next to the paper on her bed and headed for the door._

 _Leaving her behind was going against everything in his instincts, yet, it was part of the charade. He had to abide. Throwing one last look at the heart-shattering image, tears ran down his cheeks. Even if this was only temporary, any image of his Amelia gone like this was enough to kill him on the spot. Closing the door behind him, he made his way to the spot in the woods they'd agreed they'd meet when all was done._

"I was a bit skeptical, I'll give you that much. But, I also didn't really care anymore. I mean, what did I have to lose? If this was a scam and I wouldn't come back, so be it. I was willing to take that chance. And, if I was, it was going be a really good one."

"I went to extreme lengths. Even if just stabbing myself in the heart with a machete would've done the trick… I found it in myself to draw up a suicide note, even putting a few tear and ink splotches here and there on the white paper."

"I think I took the theatrics to a demented level in that moment. My need for revenge kind of blurred in the lines of the process." "There were a number of things I did in preparation. Fixed my hair the way it was planned to look at our wedding, put on all of my pearls and diamond jewelry… Hell, I even wore my favorite purple dress that he'd bought for me abroad."

"It was close to dawn by then so I knew it was the perfect timing. No one would be up for another hour or so. I had until then to stall."

"Did you?"

"Surprisingly, no." she looked at him. "Procrastination was never really my thing, I guess."

"It hurt like hell. I'm not going to lie to you. But, it was over before it really even begun. It didn't take long for the blood pooling in the back of my throat to cut off my oxygen supply. And, not long after that was done, I fainted and then, well, died."

"According to word around town, _he_ was the one to find me. Why he was in my room that early in the morning? It's not that hard to guess," she sighed. "If the sicko had a thing for necrophilia, I didn't feel anything at all."

"Rachel, you shouldn't joke like that."

"I know, "she nodded, biting her lip.

"It was pitch-black around me when I woke up. It took some time to remember what was going on around me, so there was a period in that darkness when I experienced panic. Then relief washed over me when I realized that I'd survived this woman's offer." "I was in the process of figuring out what the hell was causing this darkness when light hit and I realized that I was lying in a coffin."

"Instantly shutting my eyes, I went rock-still as a few women hovered over me, running a brush through my hair, wiping the blood away from my skin, and changing me out of the purple dress. It wasn't until a few hours later, I suppose, that I was put on display."

"Blondie's words got me through that time. I remember her telling me that this would be the perfect way of faking of my death. As long as I played along, no one would get suspicious. So, despite everything, I stayed still like some type of Barbie doll."

"Much like my father's funeral, I could hear the mockery. Giuseppe and Nathaniel told the crowd that I was sick in the head. They called my death a 'psychological tragedy'. To them, it was because of my upbringing on the outskirts of town and my lack of proper authority."

She raised her fingers in quotation marks in mockery of what he assumed to be Nathaniel's voice, "'She'd been brainwashed into believing that the simple things in life like marriage and beautiful children were the devil's work. After all that we'd done for her, she wouldn't even let me show her proper affection. Can you imagine?'"

"After that, one by one, people stepped forward to stare over my body."

"What was that like?" he asked.

"I was surprised. There were many more people in attendance than I was expecting. Some said nice words to me like, 'you were so pretty'. Others insulted me with words like, 'stable girl' and my personal favorite, 'damaged'."

"It became a little more challenging for me once people started putting things in the coffin with me. There were religious articles, books, roses… The thorns of the roses were cutting into my skin and it was very uncomfortable."

"I only felt a little reassured when blondie made herself present in the procession. The minute I heard her voice, my eyes flew open. I was desperate for answers. How was I going to get out of there? What came next?" "She was alarmed by this, whispering for me to shut my eyes immediately. And, when I did, she told me not to panic. She told me to remain still and when it would come time for burial, she'd get me out."

"Nathaniel and his father were the last two in the procession. Giuseppe kept his words simple and sweet while Nathaniel took a different approach. I wasn't really expecting anything different from him. It's not like me being 'dead' would do anything to change the evil living in his heart. Although, I will tell you that I was sort of proud of him…"

"The show was very believable. Taking my hand in his, he'd found the will within himself to squeeze out a few sobs for everyone watching his reaction. Then, he leaned over and placed a final kiss against my lips."

Her chuckles almost turned hysterical, "I wonder what he would've done, then, if I'd have opened my eyes and said 'boo'."

She became serious again, "No. I had to stay still to cover myself."

"I assume people lost interest or something. He leaned closer to me and began whispering the words I knew he was capable of. 'There's a special place for you in hell, my love. And, when you get there, I hope you burn. Right next to your sickly mother, your cowardly father, and that thief of yours, Sarah…"

"As hard as I was trying to stay composed, fury rippled through my blood. I tried desperately to calm myself internally, feeling the thorns of the roses in my hands puncture into my bones against the force of my grip."

"All my nose could acknowledge in that moment was the alcohol against his breath. Then, something equally sweet and unappealing stood out to my senses. It was really close and it was making my teeth ache. It was faint and then it was strong, over and over again. Like some kind of pattern, I guess, driven by the distinctive sound of a beating. A beating that I was sure was coming from the man's neck as he hovered over me. Then I was alone again and the smell was gone."

"In the end, the girl kept her promise. After the funeral, they rolled me into a room I'd never seen before in the big white house. More pre-burial preparation, I guess. They were in the process of pouring some reeking liquid over me. That's when I heard her voice."

"I was on the edge of my coffin. Literally," she chuckled at her joke. "I guess I was expecting some kind of mass slaughter necessary to get me out of there. Two men were guarding my body like I was a precious jewel or something. Maybe Nathaniel wanted to be sure that I was no longer capable of escaping his grasp. Whatever."

"She did the opposite of what the revenge-seeker in me wanted. She spoke lightly and calmly, saying that she was a relative from out of town who missed the funeral and wanted to see me for one last time. I was expecting a protest at the very least. 'We're sorry ma'am, but it's the fiancé's orders...' Something along those lines. They weren't about to just throw their jobs to the wind and listen to some mystery girl like I wisely did the night before. They would have to put up some type of fight, right?"

"They didn't. Silence followed before I heard a creek in the wood above me. There was another shade of light against my eyelids and as I hesitantly opened my eyes, she was smiling down at me."

He remembered exactly where he'd been when all of this happened.

 _It took only five minutes for him to toss their initial plan behind him. He wasn't doing all that he could like he promised himself before, if this day would ever come. And today, well, here they were._

 _She would be awake by now. Maybe he couldn't hear her heartbeat anymore, but he knew that she'd be terrified out of her mind. More so, she'd have about a million questions to ask. And what was he doing? Waiting by a tree?_

 _He didn't care if Percy was there to help her. He wouldn't leave her alone in a time like this. He would never leave her alone again. That was one of their promises to each other after he'd gone away._

 _Blending himself into the conversing crowd of people in the clearing where her funeral had been held, he searched for any sign of a coffin. But, there was nothing. Not anymore. She was nowhere to be found. This only increased his worry._

" _Ah, Finnegan," The voice behind him assured Finn that he'd stepped into the lion's pin. He had to be careful, compose himself. The minute he let his anger have the best of him, the man approaching would be headless._

 _He put on a poker face and turned around, "Nathaniel."_

" _I didn't think you'd be brave enough to actually show your face today."_

" _Well, I'm not really concerned about the thoughts of the living. You know that." He forced his expression to become somber. Amelia was somewhere around, holding up her end of the bargain. It was his turn. The love of his life was dead._

 _In Nathaniel's eyes, anyways… And, as he predicted before, the man was taking full advantage of throwing that in his face._

" _You actually just missed her," sarcasm held in his tone. "But, please, be my guest. Stay, have a drink, I'll even let you throw in some dirt while we're lowering her."_

 _He clenched his fists._ Composure _, he had to remind himself. "Where is she?" he demanded._

" _Rotting in hell, I hope." Okay, so composure was now off the table. Taking him by the two ends of his suit, Finn lifted him off the ground._

" _Her body, asshole, where is her body?" Fear crowded his smug face. They were gaining an audience. Noting this, Finn spared him and placed his feet back on the ground. Silence followed._

 _His teeth were gritted, "I have nothing more to lose. So, you listen to me, and you listen good… There is nothing stopping me from killing you right here in front of all of these people like I should've done, months before, for all the crap that you put her through."_

 _His lips remained still._

" _If you don't tell me in five seconds, I'm going to show you that red really is your precious Emily's color."_

" _In the house," he sighed, knowing that his stubbornness could not survive if the girl watching them with worried eyes, a yard away, was threatened. "She's in the house."_

 _Taking the liberty to plant a punch square in his jaw, Finn started toward the house. It was then that he picked up on the voices._

" _This is crazy. They're going to tell someone!" It was Amelia._

" _Do you remember how Finn got us out of that jail cell the other night?" Percy asked her. "Do you remember how it was so easy for him to convince them?"_

" _Yes, but-"_

" _Watch me," she interrupted her. "Soon enough, you'll be able to do it on your own."_

" _What about the people who can resist your powers?" she reminded her. "Finn told me about them."_

" _None of these people are 'believers', Amelia. I would be able to smell the vervain in their bloodstreams. It has an herbal essence to it."_

 _He was circling around the two at full speed then, beating Percy to the compulsion. Everyone in the room was instructed to forget everything and then he was left facing them._

 _He couldn't focus on explaining himself to Percy, however. Not when he took in the girl standing next to her, looking up at him with wide eyes._

 _She was the epitome of perfection. Like nothing he'd ever seen before. There was no heartbeat, no smell of blood, no familiar burning urge in his throat… In front of him stood a creature, so painfully beautiful, he couldn't even hear himself think._

 _The first step of the transformation had been completed. The cherub lost out of heaven, the long-lost daughter of Aphrodite standing in front of him was physical proof._

 _Amelia was breathtaking._

" _Finn!" she exclaimed, launching her body at him._

 _He caught her, brushing a hand against the back of her head. A few strands of her hair ran against his cheek as he whispered in her ear, "My beautiful princess."_

" _You were supposed to be waiting on the outskirts for us," Percy reprimanded, crossing her arms. "You put us all at risk."_

" _We're the sun and the moon, Percy," he spoke absentmindedly, gazing down at his new forever-soulmate, brushing his thumb against her lip. "To remove one, even for the shortest period of time, would be nearly disastrous."_

" _Forever," Amelia whispered._

" _We do have all of eternity now." Finn winked. She smiled, watching him slide the dark blue daylight ring on her right ring finger._

" _You better rethink that," Percy said from where she stood, glancing out the window. "Nathaniel and Giuseppe are on their way to collect."_

 _Panic set in as he zoomed closer to look over her shoulder. He then ran a hand through his hair._

" _What are we going to do?"_

" _Easy," Percy sped to the coffin, nailing it shut with the hammer found on the floor. "We get the hell out of dodge."_

 _Knowing that since she hadn't fed yet she wouldn't be able to run with them, Finn scooped Amelia in his arms and blurred with Percy out the door before anyone could find them._

"When we got to a spot in the woods far from the others, there was a woman leaning against a tree, waiting for us. She must've been about 20 or something. Her blonde hair was ruffled and pure terror coated her eyes."

"Like before with the people in the room, she'd convinced the girl to stay still and not scream. She would be my meal, she explained. I had to finish the transition or I would die."

"I was disgusted. Not only at the thought of drinking from a _human_ , but also at the thought of injuring this poor, scared woman for my own satisfaction."

"I hesitated at first, considering the possibilities of outsmarting her and setting the human free. I didn't know exactly what I'd been turned into, but I knew I'd be some type of monster if I allowed myself to hurt her."

"Then, blondie became annoyed and snapped her neck." "She then turned to me, saying, 'There, will that make it easier for you?' I was flabbergasted. I couldn't believe that it was so easy for her to just kill an innocent like that. I didn't want to be capable of that kind of brutality."

"'You're letting your emotions get in the way, Amelia. You're hungry and the clock is ticking. You'll be dead within hours if you don't feed,' she told me. That seemed to do the trick. I'd died once. I didn't want to do it again."

"It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be to bite the girl. My teeth were sharper than I remembered and once the warm liquid hit my tongue… Well, I can't fully describe that feeling."

"It was like I couldn't get enough. I physically couldn't. The thought of even changing the position of the body in my arms repulsed me. All I wanted in that moment was every last drop."

"That was when I realized how hungry I was. I'd never held someone so close to me before. Then, there was nothing more for me to drink and I was left wanting more. She told me that it was an urge that would never go away, one of the downsides of being what we were. Vampires."

"She easily distracted me after that, introducing my other powers. I found out that I could hear the ceremony of my burial, people whispering, and breathing. I could even hear horses galloping all the way across town."

"Then there was my nose. There were all these new smells that I'd never encountered. Of course there was that sweet smell of what I wanted the most. But, there was also maple, honey, dirt, grass… I could even pick up on distinctive smells of different bodies in the vicinity. The girl dead on the ground gave off a mixture of lavender and citrus." She joked, "I was like a damn wolf."

He laughed.

"The running came next," she continued. "It was exhilarating. The speed, the balance… I was like lightening, not once running into a tree or becoming tired and out of breath like I had when I was still human. We could travel long distances and be right back where we started within a matter of seconds."

"Then, we resorted to the trees. I could bring myself all the way to the top and back to the bottom just as fast. Then there was the acrobatic swinging and the free-falling."

"That was her favorite thing to show me." "She told me to just let myself fall. I thought she was insane. I would get hurt. We were thousands of feet up. However, I trusted her once and it was going okay so far. So, I threw caution to the wind and fell back, plummeting to another death."

"When I woke, I learned that I was indestructible. She watched me laugh with astonishment, stabbing herself in the stomach with a branch to further the proof. To me, it could get any better than this."

"She waited until we got back into town to show me the final trick; the mind games that we were able to play. Another person was lured from my funeral and then she demonstrated."

"'The main key is concentration,' she told me. 'You have to really convince them to do what you want them to. Watch this.' She told him to call himself Joe and run around in his briefs. And, without hesitation or repulsion, that's exactly what he did."

"She then allowed me to try it. I concentrated the best that I could, looking into the green of his eyes. 'Tell me what you're thinking,' I instructed."

"I was a natural. It worked instantly. 'Who is _Amelia Berry_ to me? Why do I have to be at her funeral?' the man asked. I couldn't fully dwell on the anger that it caused me, though. Too consumed in all that I was able to do, a more intriguing idea poked at my brain."

"Shortly after I learned of compulsion, I realized that the switch of just one little button in my head was holding my back. Turn it, and I'd feel absolutely nothing. There would be no regret, no guilt, no restraint, no pain… I didn't even allow time for the consequences to be considered before I proceeded."

"I wanted the payback to be like some sort of grand finally, you know? Like the winning run or a grand-slam scheme of things. I had full control of everything now. So, I decided to go triage style, least important to most."

"The blonde showed me where she lived hours before, so I knew where to look on the outskirts of town. What I didn't expect, however, was for the cottage to still be lit. It was well past midnight by the time I got around to things and most of the others were sleeping. I could hear the steadiness in their hearts and the relaxed pattern of their breathing."

"In this one, however, there was only one heartbeat. It was quick but very low. Actually, it was very easy for me to become frustrated. It wasn't loud enough for me from where I was standing. I needed more to go on. I was in the middle of the home within the second. That's when I picked up on the breathing. It was coming from the next room."

"I wasted no time. There was none. I was there to do one thing and then I would be on my merry way. I just wasn't expecting to find what I found in that next room."

"Turns out a lot of time had passed since Nathaniel's long business trip, because there she was. Laying still as ever, covered in wool blankets, I couldn't find the will to turn away."

"I knew that if I hadn't pressed the _off_ button in my brain earlier that day, I'd be crying my eyes out. But, I couldn't feel the pain and the heartbreak. I could not find fascination within myself at how beautiful she was. Instead, I could only pick up this sleeping baby in my arms and study her features as if she were some mediocre art display."

"Violet Maddox as her name would soon be revealed to me, a child created out of Nathaniel's infidelity. Another reason to feel like shit about myself nuzzled her little body closer into my arms. She couldn't have even been more than a week at the oldest. So small, so innocent despite the sins of her parents, and yet, more than anything, I wanted to snap her little neck."

She sighed, wiping away a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

"That's when I heard another heartbeat behind me. She was being silent. A little too silent, maybe? That's when I realized that she was planning a surprise attack on me. I could smell the metal object in her hands and hear the increasing rhythm in her chest."

"'I have your daughter in my arms. Any harm you do to me will be done to her. That wouldn't be very smart, would it?' She stopped dead in her tracks, dropping the weapon to the floor."

"'Please,' Margaret cried. 'Give her back to me. I beg of you.'"

"I was going to comply. Hell, I was even going to walk out of that house, both lives spared. Even though I didn't feel anything, I knew somewhere deep in my subconscious what I was doing. So, the less I had to regret in the future, the better. I was there merely due to my curiosity. Unnecessary killing was not on my mind-set. Giving her child back to her, I watched the relief flood her face. Then, she tensed and turned the color of the moon.

"'You're supposed to be dead, Amelia!' she screamed at me. 'I went to your funeral!'"

"'You know about me?' I asked. I couldn't believe it. I was pissed. 'You know that I'm his fiancé?' I didn't realize I was slowly stalking towards her until she was backing up. It only worsened the more she tried to avoid the question. I assumed she knew the wrong answer would hurt them."

"She needed a reason to talk, motivation. So, I snatched her daughter from her arms and placed her back in the crib, blocking her every time she tried to outsmart me and get around. My reflexes were too quick and precise."

"'Answer the question, harlot.' I was talking to her through my teeth now. She was wasting my time, the levels of my anger were exceling, and it didn't help any that I already wanted to rip her to shreds. 'Did you know about me when you had sexual relations with my fiancé?'"

"'Yes,' she told me, her focus on the infant, trying to step around me again."

"That's when I snapped and grabbed her arms. I realized the force behind my grip when I heard her cry and felt the bone snap beneath my palm. 'Take one more step and I will perform the abortion that should've occurred long before.'"

"'You are a monster, Amelia Berry!' she screamed in pain. That's when she made the mistake of slapping me across the face with her other arm."

"She was just a scared mother who made a mistake in her past, trying to protect her newborn. I get that now. But, at the time, those words, they sent me right off the edge. 'And I was willing to spare you. Too bad such a pretty baby has to become an orphan at such a young age.' I told her."

"It was very easy for me to do it. And, even worse, I liked it. The more gruesome it turned out to be, the louder her screams got, I felt more invigorated. Like this merciless murderer inside was somehow giving me some sort of power. There were no feelings of guilt, despair... I didn't once reconsider my actions. It was like a deadly craving. Like the blood, I needed every last drop."

"What did you do?" Finn asked, knowing that he'd regret it. He wasn't with her for this part. They'd agreed to split up again before then. She told him that he'd just have to trust her and that she'd be with them once she was finished.

She also hadn't switched off her emotions like she'd thought she had. This made him more anxious to find out the truth after all these years. Anything she'd done, she'd done it still in possession of her feelings.

"I ripped off her broken limb and used it as a weapon, stabbing her in the chest." She looked to her thumbs. "The last thing I heard before I left her lying dead in the middle of the floor was the cries of the baby in the crib."

"Giuseppe was next on my list," she continued. He could tell the memory was unsettling to her. He decided not to ask any more questions. He also wished he could find it in himself to stop her and tell her the whole truth, sparing her from this type of torture. He just couldn't and it was too late. She'd already started again.

"He was sitting at his desk in the study, nose-deep in some non-fiction novel. Then, I knocked on the door and the look on his face was priceless. Killing him was almost unnecessary. He nearly had a stroke where he sat."

"My sarcasm kicked in and I was ready to play dirty. I started forward like a cat, step by step to add effect like some horror movie. That must've been what it felt like for him. It didn't help when I joked and whispered, 'I guess they didn't nail my coffin tight enough.'"

"He tried to scream for Nathaniel but before any sound could leave from his vocal cords, he was pinned at an angle against one of the far walls, directly across from the blazing fireplace. The orange glow along with my sharp vision highlighted the sweat droplets falling from his forehead as I gripped his throat."

"' _Oh c'mon, Giuseppe, I thought you fancied me. Why did you have to go and call me messed up in the head at my own funeral? A psychological tragedy? Seriously? I bet Nathaniel came up with that one, didn't he? Covering things up has always been such a specialty of the two of you. I'm just interest to see how he will cover this one up. Don't worry; I'm sure your funeral will be heart-felt and less sarcastic than mine.'"_

"He tried to say something in return, but my grasp was too tight around his neck. His terror was definitely noticeable. I could feel the rapid thud of his pulse against the palm of my hands. 'I'm sorry, what was that? What did you say?' I liked how it felt, being in control of the pain inflicted."

"'I-I c-can't b-breathe.' He told me. I dropped him in response, his body falling at my feet. 'Well, why didn't you just say so?' I mused."

"'Please,' he coughed on the floor. But, by that point, mercy wasn't in my vocabulary. He was going down tonight for all of the times he'd willingly turned his head the other way and helped his son. And with the help of the demon that I'd just become acquainted with inside of me, it'd be poetic, justful."

"The room was very small, so I had few options. At first, I considered the irony behind throwing him in a fire-pit he'd lit. But, at the last minute, another thought grabbed my attention. He'd made the final call on Sarah's life, so I wanted to be the one to make the final call on his."

"There was relief in his face as I moved to rip the drapes down from one of the nearby windows. I picked up on that energy instantly. Since I wasn't focusing on his presence anymore, he seemed to believe that I would spare him and be on my way," she chuckled nonchalantly.

"It took a while for him to realize that I was using my newfound strength to morph the drapes into a very large noose. The uneven wood of the ceiling provide the perfect opportunity, one that I would not pass up by any means." "And so, like my dear Sarah, that night Giuseppe Maddox hanged."

The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood. Chills ran up his spine. Hearing it, it sounded completely inhumane and malicious. At the same time, it also sounded just and felicitous. After all she'd been through, after all she'd believed she _suffered_ through, he knew they deserved every last bit.

Of course, the story in his head was different. He'd sooner die before allowing anyone to weigh down that kind of anguish on her life. There were the things he couldn't avoid like the death of her father and Sarah. But, when it came to Nathaniel, there were numerous times when his personal death list had the potential of increasing by one.

Although Giuseppe was a "believer", as discovered by Percy later in time, he never seemed to come across vervain as the rest of the town had. However, he never chose to compel Nathaniel. Though he never showed him anything supernatural-like, he wanted him to remember everything. He wanted to make the threat very much apparent.

Unlike Nathaniel, though, he had poked at Amelia's mind. In a time of desperation, he resorted to all he thought he knew. With just one meeting of the eyes and a few words, her brain rewired.

" _Forget me, Amelia. You have to forget."_

Guilt flooded him once again.

"The remaining servants that night knew to keep their mouths shut and not intercede. I didn't care of the close bonds that I'd developed with any of them. Maybe that's what horrified them the most. Either way, they didn't take him down until I was gone."

"It was dawn by then, four o'clock at the latest, and I was ready for my final stop in massacre city. I heard the rummaging while ascending the stairs. So, I knew that he wasn't sleeping. More than that, though, I heard two heartbeats this time. He wasn't alone. And, with the amazing luck I had that night, the room in which _she_ was in was the closest in my path."

"He was in _my_ room, searching through some of my things, I guess. I'm not really sure. All I know is when I pushed the door opposite to it open, Emily thought that I was him returning to her. 'Welcome back, love,' she whispered through the darkness.'"

"'Welcome back, indeed,' I proceeded with my sadistic humor. And before she could panic or grab her dress from the floor on the side of the bed and escape, I was over her sheet-covered body, pinning her neck down with my palms at maximum strength."

"She thrashed against my grip, of course. And, I guess my agitation with her resistance opened up my considerations to just strangling her right there. But, my mind shifted instantly. That would be just too damn easy. He needed to suffer. He needed to watch Emily suffer like he watched me for so long."

"That was when he finally returned. Apparently I forgot to muffle her sounds of struggle with my other hand. And, like the damsel in distress she was…" she huffed, rolling her eyes. "I was still extremely jealous of her at that time. She was always going to be the person that I was never capable of being in his eyes. There's no point in hiding that."

"Your honesty is all I ask, Rachel. You should know that by now." Finn assured her, running a hand through a loose lock of that beautiful dark brown hair of hers, wishing that he wasn't such a coward. "After everything that he put you through, how could I judge?"

She nodded, taking his hand in hers before continuing. "His first instinct was to grab the metal lamp that sat on the desktop by the door. That's when he charged at me with it in his hands. And before he could swing, I ripped it from his grasp and crushed it into tiny pieces."

"He was so confused. I watched him trying to put the pieces together, more amused than I'd been before. Then, the moonlight hit my face at the perfect angle and I watched his expression fall with the pieces on the hardwood of the floor. He started stumbling away from me, curling over defensively as Emily watched the scene unfold, helplessly crying from the bed. I'd compelled her to stay exactly where she was."

"By that point, he was panting and holding up one finger towards me. 'You're dead!' he screamed. 'I found you in your room. The blood, the machete, I closed the coffin with your body inside!'"

"'Now, Nathaniel, did you really think that I'd go in peace?" I told him, closing him in against the wall. His eyes were clenched shut. He was afraid of me. Finally, I was the one to be feared." Forget the feelings of his concern for her humanity. Finn felt the prideful goosebumps rise on his arms. Hearing of her justice was mesmerizing. It kept him at the edge of the dusty couch, wondering what she'd done next.

Since their time together was cut very short in those last two days after her transformation, he'd never gotten the chance to get the whole story out of Amelia.

"He didn't say anything. They just cried each other's names from where they were, like it would do anything to soften my dead heart. I took that time to take advantage of my power."

"'You know, Nathaniel, I think my funeral could've been a little more gracious. Don't you think?' I whispered, moving towards the desk. Where a single red rose sat in a vase, I grabbed it and knelt before him. I knew he felt the symbolism when I began brushing the thorns against his cheek. I know he knew that I was trying to remind him of that first night he'd gotten violent with me. The irony of it all… Gosh, you have no idea how good it felt."

"He flinched under my icy touch when I replaced the thorns with my fingers. 'Emily, Sarah, the beatings, my dad…You really hurt me, you know that, Nathaniel?' I asked him. 'It's such a shame too because if you'd really given me a chance the world would have been ours for the taking. I could have made you really happy.'"

"'I mean, a psychological tragedy? Like I was telling your father before I hanged him downstairs a few minutes ago,' I trailed off, taking the time for realization to hit him. He gasped, falling further back against the wall. It didn't take long for the grief to flood his features. 'You came up with that one, didn't you? I assumed as much.'"

"He lost it then, screaming in my face, attempting to wrestle with me. The adrenaline in my veins took over. I grabbed his neck and raised him to the point where his feet were dangling above the ground. Slamming him against the wall, my words were now coming out through my teeth, 'I didn't like what you told me in my coffin, Nathaniel. Your breath smelled horrendous and your words were all but the truth. The only one going to hell is your miserable joke of a self. Better yet, say hi to Giuseppe for me, will ya?'"

"He was yearning for air. I could tell that much. However, that had no effect on his attempts of a retaliation. He choked as he tried to speak, 'S-So h-help m-me G-God, I will k-kill you A-Amelia B-Berry, if i-it's the l-last t-thing I d-do!'"

"'Is that before or after I crush your trachea with my bare hands like that lamp on the floor over there?' I took a moment to let that sink in. And then, I lost it. 'You ruined me, Nathaniel Maddox! I have never caused you any harm and yet that's all you've done for me! You tell me to rot in hell? Well, you better get ready because you're next in line!' I began kneeing him and just viciously beating his body after that. Every groan felt like gold to my ears. I was stronger now, so I knew it had a bigger impact on him. It helped suppress the trauma he'd instilled in my head. I wasn't a psychological tragedy. I was just a girl, a warrior in that moment, finally standing up to her bully after so long of being dragged around like a ragdoll."

"It enraged him with a beet red face and veins sticking out the side of his strained face. It reminded me of all the times he came searching for me. All the while, Emily screamed for his mercy. Of course, helplessly watching the love of her life die right in front of her eyes would be more than one could handle. That's when the idea came to me.'"

"I dropped him to the floor, letting him recollect. Then he got up again and turned to face off with me. I smiled, whispering, 'Game on, Prince.' He'd had this special nickname for me before, 'Princess', so I knew it'd do a number on his self-esteem."

"W-what?" Finn asked, his heart dropping to his toes. "What was the nickname?"

"Princess," she replied, looking at him in confusion.

 _No, no, no…_ She had it all wrong. That was _his_ nickname for her. The memory must have been jumbled around in her head when it was in the process of being erased. Now, she associated _his_ term of endearment for her with that, that _animal_.

She ignored whatever expression he was giving off at the moment, continuing with the story. "When he charged at me, I elbowed him in the chest and he went flying back into Emily's arms. 'Don't,' she cried as he tried to get back up again. She wrapped her arms around him, fighting against his protests with no use. Within seconds, he was back on his feet. I dodged his swing once I got closer, grabbing his arms and snapping his wrists backwards. The crunching sounded and all that was left was his loud screams."

"I compelled him, then, not to move a muscle. And, it worked. I could tell, because despite his pain, he tried just about everything in the book to fight against it. That's the time I took to act."

"Breaking off one of the wooden posts from the opposite end of the bed, I guided the pointed edge horizontally along Emily's throat. A short gasp from her lips was the last thing heard before a very shrill cry rang through the air. His wrists were long forgotten."

"She was dead within the instant, just as I had been the night before. Then, for the first time in my life, I watched Nathaniel really fall into a pool of despair. Better yet, he couldn't move. So, he was incapable of reaching forward and taking her into his arms or halting the increasing blood flow. All he could do was stay where he was, sob, scream angry threats at me and watch her slowly lose color from cheeks once so rosy."

"'Em, love,' he cried. 'Please, come back to me. Come back to me. You can't go. Come back to me.' He was hysterical, which made it more satisfying for me to watch."

"It didn't end there. No, the grand finale was when I started towards the door. 'Take me!' he begged. 'Kill me, you miserable hag!'"

"When I turned around that last time, it was the last time I would ever speak to him and the last time I would ever take in the haunting image of his face physically. 'You don't get a happy ending.' I compelled him once more, 'You're going to sit here, moving not a single inch, with her rotting body until someone finds the two of you. And don't think that that will be any time soon. I compelled every single person in and outside of this house.'"

"I then compelled him to forget that I killed her once someone did find them. I didn't want anyone on my tail."

"'Welcome to hell, Nathaniel Maddox. I really hope you find it to your liking.' I was on fire. To walk out of that room hearing him scream my name over and over again, it was all I'd ever wanted. After everything, he finally got what he deserved. After countless times of being voiceless in his merciless acts, I was able to return that favor."

"That next day, we left everything behind and headed towards the other side of the U.S. I can't really remember the reason why, but the blonde and I parted ways the day after that. Maybe it was because of a lack of cooperation?"

"All I know is that I didn't bother to turn my emotions back on after that. There was no longer a point to it. The gigantic wall of grief and guilt waited for me. I could feel its shadow everywhere I went. There was also the fact that my father was dead and I didn't believe that I had anything else to live for. I'd sooner die before confronting all of that again. Then I remembered that I was now immortal and there was no way that I'd be able to kill myself off. This only worsened things."

"I became a nomad, spending the rest of the 1800's and the early 1900's ripping through small villages and large cities. I can honestly sit here right now and tell you that there isn't a place in the U.S that I haven't visited. Chicago in the 1880's, Minnesota in the 1890's... New York, New Jersey, Maine, Pennsylvania… I even hit some of the southern states. Florida, Texas, New Mexico, Alabama..."

"I didn't care about being discreet. My actions even caught the attention of some of the tabloids. There was a mysterious murderer sweeping the country and no one was safe!" she exclaimed in a mocking tone. "I would have even put Bonnie and Clyde to shame if I hadn't met up with them about halfway through and became an accomplice to their robberies."

"Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow?" Finn asked. Okay, maybe it was his turn to be amazed. She would make fun of him just as he had when he told her about his apprenticeship with Michelangelo. He already saw the smug grin forming.

"Who do you think took all of those pictures of them in front of their car while they were posing with all of their guns?"

"I don't know," He remembered coming across the troubled couple several occasions in the 1930's. He cringed, wondering how many times they'd been within walking distance of each other in the past without realizing it. His heart ached at the possibility of having run into her decades earlier.

"Some random hostage or a daring photographer looking for an increase in salary?"

But that wouldn't have done him any good, he concluded. According to her, her humanity was foreign to her and he couldn't vouch for this period in her life. He wasn't aware of her existence anymore. She probably wouldn't have shot him a second glance.

She chuckled, "Well the lifestyle and traveling worked out for me for a while, but unlike them, I was bullet-proof. So, when the police came to investigate the scene, I was but a gust of wind."

"After that, I found myself along the western side of the country, chowing my way through Colorado, Idaho, Nevada, and California. This lasted for the rest of the 1930's."

"Then, before I knew it, it was 1941 and I was in a bar in the middle of Bourbon Street in New Orleans, watching the many men and women get last minute nights of fun in as drafting for World War II began. That's where she found me."

"The blonde," Finn assumed. Did Percy know where she was without telling him? No, that couldn't be. She still thought that Amelia was dead.

"Santana," Rachel corrected.

His breath cut short and then a new type of excitement filled him. He'd finally be able to get the real story on how she found her "family". Or, how her "family" found her.

"She completely took me off-guard. I went into bite her because I thought she was human and the next thing I know, she's injecting me in the neck with vervain. It was my first encounter with the herb, so I passed out immediately and she carried me through Jackson Square to the Mississippi River where the others were waiting for me."

"I thought they were insane. They were all so nice, like they'd been waiting for me or something. According to Santana, they'd been tracking me cross country. So, maybe that had something to do with it."

"They were different from me. I could tell that instantly. The scent they gave off was very different. It was like they were vampires, but not the right type. It really freaked me out but I didn't have time to react. They'd already begun their course of action."

"I don't express it enough, but my gratitude really does run deep for all of them. Their devotion to my recovery was very much apparent. They spent day-in and day-out helping me get a platform back under my feet. After torturing the humanity back into me, they were willing to be that support system if the pain from it all became too much for me to bear on my own. They took me in, helped me develop a new diet of two blood bags a day. It would have been enough for me if my mind hadn't been so intent on torturing me every day."

"It was hell in the beginning, especially with the feelings that came flooding back shortly after. I remember spending at least three months researching Violet Maddox and reflecting on how I'd stolen her mother away from her."

"She was doing okay, of course. She'd married young into another rich family in town and had three sons of her own. But, However, if I allowed myself to really think about things, I knew that somewhere deep within she probably wondered where her mother was."

"There were also the reminders of my father and his untimely death... I despised immortality, taking every chance I could get at a temporary death. Then, when that seemed to have no impact, I turned to literature. I searched for works that I could relate to; works that would help make me feel better. Poetry easily engulfed me."

"Things stayed pretty much the same after that. We relocated every few years or so to dodge suspicion. Then, one day living in Chicago, I was told that we were relocating to Crystal Willow, and any comfort I found suddenly tumbled down. I wondered, out of all the states, towns, and countries in this world, why they had to choose that one." "In the end, I put on a brave face and complied with their wishes despite my absolute distaste."

"It was a different place, however. I noticed that instantly. It wasn't so eerie anymore. I don't know if it was because of my family being around me or just the different time period and different types of people in town, but I felt more at home… And just when things couldn't get any weirder, something happened."

"What happened?" Finn raised a brow with a smirk.

"There was this boy. At first, he was like really annoying, don't get me wrong. But, gradually, he started to grow on me. And, now, well…"

"Finn, I would never have believed it if I told myself I'd be this way a decade ago. You make me happy; the happiest I've ever been, maybe. I don't know. But, I will tell you one thing. I haven't felt this _safe_ with any other person. I don't want to."

"I'm still pretty cautious of my heart and that wall is taking its time to come down, okay?" she asked, he nodded. "I just don't have any type of justification anymore."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"There are no more reasons for me to push you away or hide behind my guard. I can't make any more excuses. You know everything about me. You're the _only_ person who now knows everything about me."

"But, with all of that, you also now know the reasons behind my reluctance with my heart. You know why I can't be open to love just yet."

He nodded.

"So, how about I meet you halfway?"

"Halfway?" he was confused. Where was she going with this?

"I have your heart, right?" she asked.

"Every inch and centimeter of it," he confirmed.

"Well, you now have my _trust._ " She informed him.

Relief. Relief settled through him with her revelation.

"Can I trust that you won't take that lightly and I won't ever regret this decision?" she searched his face desperately for any distinction of doubt.

"I promise," he smiled as she moved forward to nuzzle herself into his side. Looking down at her, her eyes trailed upward to meet his. "I love you."

Yet again, Rachel Berry found a way to surprise him. In the moment, the tension that she'd been harboring since they'd stepped in the place vanished. Her shoulders loosened, wrapping her cool arms against around his torso. Then, as if they both had the same thought at the same time, the space between their lips was nonexistent.

"Odd," she commented afterwards, as his chin rested against the top of her head.

"What's odd?" he wondered.

"Earlier today, I was so terrified to come back to this place and relive old memories. But now, I've never felt more at peace, at _home_."

He knew then that, yes, it had been a very long night and they'd only get longer as long as he kept his secrets to himself.

As she sighed with relaxation and relief, anxiety tinged in his chest.

* * *

 **Sorry this took so long to update! Been so busy lately, Ughh... I hope to update soon. But, like before, i don't want to make any promises that i can't keep. Enjoy! :) Until next time... -Kat**


	20. Senza di Te la mia vita non ha senso

**Chapter 19**

It wasn't long before daylight had come trailing in through the shattered windows. Now, a soft yellow color illuminated the space around, more dominantly on the features of the face before hers.

She lay closer to his side, snuggling further into the warmth. It'd been this way since he'd fallen asleep a few hours ago. She, on the other hand, was having a hard time finding her exhaustion.

Maybe she was too distracted in the moment. That's what she'd like to blame it all on. It would easily be believable to the outside eye looking in. Anyone could mistake the crackling of worn out wood in the fireplace across the room and the large leather jacket draped over her icy arms for the opened gates of Heaven.

The sound of his breathing—even if he was dead and didn't need it—perfectly complimented her ears. The cologne of his natural scent lingered in her nostrils, sending shivers down her spine. That's about how far her attention could go. There wasn't even the single chirp of a cricket. For the first time, in a very long time, everything was still _, simple._

Her big fluffy bed no longer held any type of appeal. Squeezed tightly together on an old and dusty couch—Finn's long legs hanging over the end—was the epitome of her contentment. If she were given the option, staying here forever and a day simply wouldn't be long enough.

This terrified her, to say the very least. She wasn't used to the feeling. Hell, she _never_ felt like this about anyone before. There was nothing subtle about it. There was a strong and persistent type of ringing in her chest, one that only presented itself whenever he was around or his name was mentioned.

Nothing felt forced as it had with Nathaniel. There was no leash waiting to drag her around and under. She held a different type of purpose than being at someone's beck and call. She no longer felt like her life didn't belong to her.

She was now eager to start each day. Her smiles were real. The bright melodies hashed out on her piano late at night were real— and really loud according to the opposing six in her household. She was no longer talking herself into anything. She was willingly falling, harder and harder the more time that passed.

Walking through the woods that first day in town, she would have never imagined any of this. How could she? She basically had nothing to live for. She craved an escape, a way out of this immortal hell-hold. Now, she felt more alive than she did when she actually was.

He reminded her of someone she once believed that no one else would ever be capable of. She recognized certain characteristics of Finn's, once belonging to Joseph Berry. His laughter was where it could be seen the most. Some days it left her chest heavy with the longing for her father's presence. And, on others, it lit her up like the Fourth of July.

But, this illusion couldn't fool her for too long. After a while of feeling like the same little girl who used to stomp her feet against the shore of the falls, she remembered that there were still other feelings lingering for Finn, way different compared to the ones she held for her father.

Lost in the dark and cold, he was like a nightingale singing her towards the light. She was a celestial object in orbit around his sun. She was drawn. She could feel the pull of gravity every day. He was a necessity. Literally, she needed him as one needed to breath. She had no control over it, nor did she want any. Ironically enough he was the beat of her heart. It was a completely involuntary process and without it, she'd die.

Straining her neck a little to view his face, she wondered how the light hadn't caused him to stir. She then thanked her lucky stars that it didn't. He looked so peaceful in his position. With his head rested perfectly against her shoulder, his expression was blank. His long eyelashes rested against his freckled cheeks and his lips parted perfectly, sending hot air to the side of her neck.

Again, she couldn't contain the chills that ran up her spine. Everything that he did seemed to be equivalent to magic. It caused her to question his existence. Maybe he was a figment of her imagination, or her own personal angel sent to save her. Was he really here with her right now? Or was this feeling in her chest all just a really good dream?

It took running a cool hand through the messy brown locks of his to reassure her. Yes, he was real and didn't move an inch. Boy, could he sleep… She chuckled to herself quietly.

That's when a thought occurred to her.

Although she couldn't yet physically come out and force herself to say the three words, she felt a hold. This only intensified now, lying next to him. Looking over his sleeping form, she made a vow to herself, at all costs, that she would protect all that they had built. It didn't even matter if her life was one of those costs. Let just one person lay a finger against his perfect skin….

She had to halt her train of thought. Her grip against the side of his arm was unintentionally tightening as anger bubbled in her chest. It was unfathomable. Just the thought of losing him, being stripped from him just as she had been from her father, tightened her trachea and sent a type of wet to her eyes that she hadn't experienced since earlier tonight. If she thought she'd already seen her lowest point in the past, she didn't want to think about what she would be capable of if Finn ever went away.

Lowering her head, she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. The warmth against her lips took her off-guard. Was it really that hot in here? Or, was it because they weren't the same? Examining his perfectly rosy cheeks, she concluded that it was the second suggestion.

She wondered how that was, that he was different from her. As she was icy to the touch and paler than a sheet of computer paper, he was more beautiful. Just as human as any other human in town, she often became envious observing his pink cheeks, warm skin, and clear as day heartbeat. She wondered why she couldn't be like that. Had it something to do with time periods? What made her a "Modern" and him a "Wanderer"? Was there a meaning to it, beyond them? She'd make a mental note to ask at a later time.

Right now, as he slept soundly against her on the tiny Victorian couch, she wanted to give him the peace he deserved. He was extremely selfless last night. Any other guy would've tried to change the subject or redirect the focus back on at least one aspect of them. And, she could think this because she knew exactly how the mind of teenage boys worked. She had enough experience over the years. Finn, on the other hand, had been nothing but extremely patient, offering arms to fall into and commentary when it was necessary.

This wasn't even the first time. She remembered the night spent with him in the graveyard, and the moment in the car before she found out about him, and many other moments they'd shared since first meeting a couple of months before. Needless to say, she didn't deserve him but she got him anyways and any expression of her gratitude would never be enough.

It was shortly after that she caused him to stir. Her heart sunk, knowing it was the ice of her cheek resting against his that started the movement. It must've felt so uncomfortable for him. She tried to change her thoughts before becoming too upset. She trailed back to moments before. Oh, how she wanted nothing more than for the temperature of their touches to be the same, how she wanted nothing more than to be a "Wanderer" rather than the soul stereotype for the demons of the night.

So consumed in her head, she hardly realized that she was drifting. It was when Finn repositioned his neck and her head fell into the crevice provided that she finally fell into a slumber. With the outside world and any type of curfew issued completely forgotten, Rachel snuggled closer and found absolute serenity.

Two or three hours later and she turned on her side. Expanding her arms out, her eyes flew open when her hands brushed against thin air. There was no longer a body lying next to her. There was no longer a sense of warmth. The fire had since burned out.

Rising, she rubbed her eyes, making sure that she wasn't having a nightmare. She wasn't; she was wide awake. This was when her breathing faltered and her non-existent heart fell to her freezing toes. The leather jacket that had been placed above her was gone and so was Finn.

No, she thought in her state. She was thinking all the wrong things. He wasn't like this. He'd assured her before. She spent all last night assuring herself. If anything, he was the type to chase you to all ends of the Earth. So, where the hell was he?

 _Could he have really collected all that he needed and ditched? Had she really been that naïve and blindsided if everything turned out to be a charade?_ Maybe she shouldn't have let down her guard so easily. The more she thought of the possibilities, the more the negativity in her mind convinced her. Then, her eyes began to twitch with the familiar sting and her throat started to burn with the familiar resistance. Wiping the first hot stream of tears away with the back of her hand, she rose and began to gather her things. Taking her jacket from its place on the floor, she slid it on and headed towards the door.

That's when she was taken by surprise. Just as she reached for the rusted doorknob, it suddenly began to turn on its own. Light hit her eyes a little too harshly as someone stepped in, this person jumping back after noticing that she was standing there. Looking up, a wave of relief flooded through her body.

"Finn," she sighed. She was an idiot. Of course, she could never doubt him. What was she thinking in the first place, jumping to conclusions so quickly? She should have stuck to the feeling in her chest. She should have considered last night. He was Finn, _not_ Nathaniel. She would apologize.

"Rachel?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "Where are you going?" he asked, motioning to her jacket and the purse on her shoulder. "You're crying, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

She shook her head, quickly wiping her tears away. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking…" she decided to just rip the Band-Aid off and spare him the rambling. "I woke up and you were gone and I don't know, it just-"

His face fell as if giving himself a mental slap in the face. "I should have left a note," he said, lifting his arms. Just then she noticed the cardboard holster in his hands, housing two cups of what smelled like coffee. "I wanted to surprise you."

She sighed, lowering her head while letting out a half-hearted chuckle, "Now I feel even more like an idiot. I owe you an apology, Finn. I shouldn't have assumed the worst."

Setting the cups on a cracked table in the corner of the room, he moved closer. Engulfed in the home-like feeling of his embrace, she felt her head fall against his chest just as it would against her pillow. This was when she realized that she could count the hours of sleep she'd gotten on just one hand.

"You had a rough night last night telling me about your horrible past, Rachel." He whispered into her ears. "I completely understand."

"I-I trust you," she felt the need to remind him. "Okay? I really do."

"And I love you because of that," he placed a kiss on the top of her head. "You're giving me a chance and I'm never going to take advantage."

"Thank you," she smiled up at him. "Thank you for being, well, you."

He raised his lips in that half-grin that melted her soul to liquid charcoal. "Why don't we start over? Good morning, Rachel. How are you?" he asked in an upbeat tone.

She returned it, "I'm better now."

"I'm assuming that you're probably starving."

"You're assuming correctly," she chuckled, watching him dig through the inner pockets of his jacket. Her face froze when he pulled out two blood bags along with a bag of chocolate chip cookies that came from the same place as the coffee. The matching logos on the three items were what gave it away.

"How did you get those?" she asked.

"Well, apparently since its Saturday, the shop was having a 'buy two and get one free' sale. And I definitely cannot pass on the offer of free cookies."

"Not the cookies," she couldn't help but laugh.

"Right," he nodded, looking down at the blood bags. "Well, I stopped at your house before that. I didn't want Will and Emma to be pissed at me for keeping you out all night. You know, in the general sense, when that happens dirty thoughts come to the minds of parents. So, I thought I'd clear the air. They seemed pretty okay once I explained that we fell asleep and they said to stay out as late as we wanted today."

"They thought that we-?" she trailed off, secretly not wanting to say the words _had sex_. She knew it would only embarrass her in front of him.

He nodded, laughing, "Oh yeah."

"Of course they did," she sighed, shaking her head. If her body still contained any form of blood, she knew her face would be beet-red. She caught sight of a smirk forming on his lips, sending her hand to slap his chest. "You better slow your roll, Joe. I don't give out on the first few dates."

"Dates?" he repeated, furrowing his brows.

"Is that not what this was?" she crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at him. "You bitched for hours over the phone yesterday afternoon." She stuck her tongue out as she joked.

He shook his head, lowering it with laughter, "It just makes me feel really good to hear you finally say it."

"It feels good to say it," she assured him.

Moving forward, he pulled her back into his arms. Then, she got a whiff of what was in his hand behind her back and she could feel the veins forming under her eyes. Feeling her twitch, he pulled away.

"Right," he smiled, handing her the bag and taking one for himself.

Ripping the cap off, she drained what liquid it contained within a second. Looking up, he somehow finished faster. "You didn't tell me how you got these. What, do they know that you're a vampire now?" she asked.

"No," he shook his head. "I told them that you were probably really hungry, so when they went to dig for 'human' food out of the pantry, I snatched the bags from the fridge."

"You're good," she pointed her index finger at him.

"I live with Percy, who probably invented the game of trickery," he laughed, pulling her back into his arms. "How could I not be?"

"You've got a point," she agreed, sending what she thought was a subtle glance back to the couch. He caught it.

"Malady?" he motioned, holding a hand out for her. Obliging, she grabbed it as he led her back to their spot.

"Here," he handed over his jacket once she positioned herself on the familiar cushion. "I'll be right back. It's awfully cold in here."

She wanted to argue against him going outside without a jacket on, but before she could, he was out of the room. Wrapping her arms in the large fabric, the feeling and the smell took a toll on her exhaustion. Resting her head back, she was out within minutes.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes again. All that was clear this time was that she awoke in Finn's arms. Craning her neck back, she looked up to see him watching the flames of the fire intently. He appeared to be deep in thought until he noticed her attention.

"Good morning, my _princess_." He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She tried to ignore the cringe that rippled through her at the sound of the term of endearment. She remembered explaining how Nathaniel used to call her that. Maybe he forgot, so she tried to as well.

"How long was I out?" she made no effort to move from her position.

"Thirty minutes, maybe." He whispered, taking one of her loose curls and twirling it around his index finger. "I hope I didn't make too much noise with the firewood."

She shook her head. "I didn't hear a single thing."

"Good," he smiled, closing his eyes and leaning further into her side. "I had to finish off your coffee and cookie. They were getting cold."

She laughed, "I can tell." Raising her hand, she wiped away a bit of chocolate she noticed on the corner of his mouth.

"Watching you sleep kept me busy, otherwise." He commented afterwards. "You snore very loudly."

"No," she argued, "No way."

"I don't think I've seen anything so cute. Hell, even when I used to watch Quinn…" he trailed off, noticing his mistake. She looked back up at him and apologies shown through the deep amber setting of his eyes.

"You have a past, Finn," she placed a hand to his cheek. "We all do. I'd be a really big hypocrite if I bit your head off for trying to talk about her."

"I never really got around to telling you the story, did I?" he asked guiltily.

She shook her head. "And you don't have to now, if you don't want."

He ignored her, standing from the couch, pulling her out of their comfy position. Sitting up, her breathing sped. What was he up to?

Holding out a hand, he spoke, "C'mon, let's go for a walk, shall we?"

The weather, as opposed to the last two weeks, was nice. She was surprised to see it as they descended the broken porch steps. A cerulean type of blue bordered the bright sun, not a cloud in sight.

Hand in hand, they strode away from a place that had suddenly become a type of sanctuary to Rachel. So many new memories were made last night. It was hard for her to remember her other experiences between those wooden walls. More so, in certain moments as peaceful as right now, it was nearly impossible for her to believe that she ever led a life without Finn at her side.

Looking up to take in the picture of his face, she noticed that he was in a world of his own. As the artic breeze swayed the trees around them, he kept his focus on the tips of his shoes.

 _Crunch, crunch…_ The leaves beneath made it obvious that fall was soon approaching. She internally sighed. This meant that Halloween was also around the corner, and there was nothing more she hated than the tactless holiday. If it weren't for the obnoxious children running from door to door and begging strangers for candy, it would be the many degrading imitations of their species. Were vampires really perceived that way by humankind?

A bed of wildflowers stole her attention away from the random trailing of her mind. Finn noticed her then, as she began to tug at his arm. He smiled at her anticipation, following closely behind.

Falling to the ground, she paid no attention to the soaking of her jeans from the moisture of the soil on the forest floor. Instead, she ran a gentle hand over the soft petals. Different colors popped out from different directions. At one point there were deep purples and blues, and before she knew it, she could spot yellows, oranges, and pinks.

It reminded her of a portrait she'd examined at an art gallery in town many years ago. "The kitten and the barn", she often called it. She didn't know the real name, nor did she know the artist. All she remembered was Nathaniel's ignorance when she tried to explain her observations and his insistent price bargaining with the curators every time she expressed a particular interest.

They'd somehow gotten it for free that day. She wondered to herself if it was still hidden somewhere in the ruins of the old home. She promised herself she would return for it at a later time.

Twirling a tiny purple flower between her fingers, she nearly missed it when Finn began to speak. He looked her dead in the eyes.

"There was a girl," he started, staring off into space. "I met her a couple centuries after Zara."

"Zara?" Rachel asked.

"The girl I told you about, from France," Finn reminded her.

She remembered, "Oh, right."

"I guess I kind of turned like you after she lost my child and left me. I laughed at the concept of love."

"And all of that changed when you laid eyes on…" Rachel trailed off in conclusion, taking everything that she was feeling right now into consideration.

"She became my everything," he explained. "The sun, the stars, and the moon…Whenever she was around, they all went away."

Her mind was spinning. She didn't know the correct way to feel. The two sides of her brain were tugging each other in opposite directions. One side wanted her to be envious. The thought of another capturing Finn's heart was indescribable.

The other side was fear and realization. He was describing everything that she was feeling for him at the moment. All the proof she needed was in the weight on her chest. Every time he left, it got heavier and harder to bear. When he was around, the sun, the stars, and the moon fell as well. Hell, in his presence, the entire world went away. It was just the two of them, standing under a bright spotlight, surrounded by black nothingness.

"She had this spirit that ran freer than animals in the wild. She was absolutely beautiful, her laughter could keep you hooked for weeks at a time, and her heart was bigger than a million endless seas combined. It's what wrapped me around her tiny little finger." He softly chuckled to himself. "A life with her was all the happy ending that I needed."

Silence followed then and his face fell, causing Rachel to decide the rest of the story on her own. "She hurt you, like Zara did?"

"Never," he whipped his head back and forth, shutting down the idea. "It was the complete opposite, actually."

Somehow she didn't believe him. How could Finn hurt anyone?

"I opened up about my world, dragged her into it. And when the humans came for their bearings, she didn't disappoint. They took her."

Her heart ached for him and the recent knowledge that he had also lost someone important. However, she didn't say anything, no matter how much she wanted to. The clichés like "I'm so sorry" and "my condolences" were just words into the ears of someone who went through death. It would hold no impact against the grief he was feeling.

So, instead, she did the one thing that she wished, more than anything else, someone would have done for her after all of the deaths she'd endured. Dropping the flower to the ground, she wrapped her hand around his.

He smiled half-heartedly, placing a soft kiss against her knuckle. The moment their eyes met, she went in for his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered once she pulled away.

He didn't leave her time to respond. Before she could offer the beautiful words on her mind, he decided to continue with the story.

Maybe he didn't want to dwell on emotions. Maybe indifference was his type of coping mechanism.

He told her the entire story, then. She listened intently, paying close attention to the features of his face. She watched as his face lit up when the portion of the story was good and dropped when it was bad.

He then explained how he was betrayed and there was no expression on his face. "I found them in the back of my car," he told her. "I had been searching for the both of them all night, but never expected to find them like that, you know?"

She did know. Certain thoughts of Emily pressed against the brick wall in that alley way by Nathaniel came to her mind. She tried her best to shake it away.

"And now, as if I didn't already have enough karma…" he trailed off, resting his head in his palms.

"Finn, stop it right now." Rachel reprimanded, reaching forward for him. Resting her hands on both of his cheeks, she met his eyes. "It's her karma, okay? You did nothing wrong."

"It just hurts," tears welled in her eyes as she watched his own roll down the bright red of his cheeks. "Like a big slap in the face, even."

He was always such a happy person, even when she was in the darkest of dumps. Always so positive and enlightening and encouraging… To see him like this, right now, to finally understand what he couldn't tell her last night…

 _Protect him at all costs_. Last night's vow reoccurred in her brain. She had to find a way to make his pain go away.

This was when she came up with an idea. Standing from the ground, he looked up with confusion.

"What are you doing?" he asked, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"C'mon, I want to show you something." She held out her hand and without a second thought, he took it.

It was near impossible to find. She had to depend on her memory entirely. But once they arrived to a pile of wooden ruins surrounded by giant trees, she knew her search had been successful. The wooden ruins of the horse stables surrounded their shoes.

"What was this place?" Finn asked.

"This was where they kept their horses," she explained. She watched him for a moment, knowing that the confusion wouldn't leave his face that easily.

"I didn't tell you earlier, maybe because I was too embarrassed or something, but I came here the day after I found out about Emily and Nathaniel."

"I was hurt, much like you are right now, Finn. I felt unimportant, unwanted…I couldn't believe that he was so willing to just throw me to the wind for another girl. I couldn't believe that I wasn't good enough, that he didn't see me the way that I wanted him to." "So, I came out here for an escape."

"They had rope lying around on a daily basis for the saddles. And, the ceilings were uneven much like they were the time I hanged Giuseppe. Anyways, I went through the motions with the horses standing around me like nothing was happening."

"You were going to hang yourself?"

"I nearly broke my neck balancing on top of one of the horse's gates alone, tying the rope to the ceiling, but yeah. The noose was already around my neck. All that was left was just one jump."

"What stopped you?" he asked.

"A guy, actually." She tried to remember, but she couldn't. Like the blonde that turned her, all that came up in her mind was a blank face. She couldn't even conjure up a voice. All she remembered was a tall guy with brown hair.

"Now thinking about it, I'm pretty sure that he was a vampire," she told him. "He pulled me down so fast; before I knew it, I was on the ground and he was gone. I took it as a sign. No matter how bad I had it, I needed to be strong and stick it out." "So, I did. Even after they killed Sarah and suicide was a very appealing thing to me on just about every level, I tried not to give up." "And, I don't regret that decision one bit. If I acted that day, you and I would have never met."

"So, screw Nathaniel and Emily, screw Quinn and Noah… All that's important is the two of us. I don't think I've said that enough lately. Forget the stars, moon, and the sun. You are much more to me than those three simple things."

She felt the tears as emotion rocked her. "I don't even deserve you, but you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. You came into my life at a time when I really needed you, and you haven't disappointed yet. So, maybe we haven't known each other more than a couple of months. So, I completely loathed you and your annoying persistence the first week of knowing each other. When I look at you now, I feel like you've always been a part of me, like we've known each other in a different lifetime. You make me feel things I haven't felt since I was a young child. You took a broken girl who saw nothing but pain and destruction in her wake and introduced her to life. You make me want to smile, laugh, live… My gratitude will simply never be enough."

"Quinn couldn't see that? It's her loss. And trust me, Finn; you are a great loss to have. Which is why I'm not going to take you for granted anymore."

Her proclamation left her breathless and an uncomfortable silence lingering in the air. Maybe he was trying to process it all? She wanted desperately to know what was turning in that beautiful mind of his.

Just then, it was as if her mind was read.

"Come here," two words and eight letters. That's all that she needed to fall into his command. No second thoughts about where they were or the large pieces of wood by their feet, she lunged herself at him like a pathetic _Lifetime_ movie. Only this time, they were in a movie of their own, where the rules were completely up to the two of them.

Before she had time to blink, they were back within the warm walls of the wooden home. With legs wrapped around his waist, he held the back of her head as he gently guided them onto the familiar red of the sofa.

Neither wanted control over the other. Instead, their movements were paced, simultaneous. Almost two hundred years on this earth, and Rachel had never experienced a moment so significant. About a minute a motion, she wanted to savor every touch as long as physically possible.

Her fingers searched endlessly through the strands of his hair as he lowered his face, his lips finding the curve of her neck. The softness of his lips, the sensation of them against her skin… She couldn't think properly enough to describe the feeling. Instead, her oxygen level measured to one breathing in through a straw and her eyes rolled all the way back and around.

Only he had this effect on her. She figured this out not long after she'd left the graveyard that night. Even in her earlier days, when mayhem struck her heart and she'd searched recklessly for an out from her misery, the countless number of guys she'd sexually encountered before ripping them to shreds couldn't come close in comparison. In a world filled with dumbasses and thrill-seekers, he was her matching puzzle piece. She just couldn't understand how it had taken her so long to figure it out.

Deciding to return some of his bravery, one hand found the back of his head and the other kept a tight grip against his shoulder. Flipping him over and wrapping her legs around his waist, she sent a trail of kisses up his neck. It was when she gained access just below his ear that he surprised her.

She'd never felt so thrilled about an act of defense from the enemy. Maybe it was because of the moment or the fact that her "enemy" wasn't an enemy at all. The two of them battled for dominance, Finn ultimately coming out the other end victorious. Right where they started, she was again pinned to the couch.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk…" she giggled uncontrollably as Finn made the sounds of reprehension with his tongue. "What am I going to do with you, Rachel Berry?" he whispered in her ear.

She would have replied with something very vulgar like seen in all of the overrated porn flicks now-a-days. However, the question sparked something deeper within. Her heart peeked its head out from its brick wall and liked what it saw.

Looking into irises projecting a dark shade of gold, she spoke as clearly as her heavy breathing allowed. "Be human with me, _Francesco Cellini_. Right here, in this incredibly warm room," she laughed, referring to the blazing fire beside them. "However long it takes, be human with me."

That half -grin that she loved so much appeared from nowhere as he brushed a strand of the messy hair from her face. "What happened to not putting out on the first few dates, _Amelia Berry_?" he asked in their famous joking manner. "I think I remember being told to slow my roll."

"None of it matters to me anymore," she smiled up at him.

"Are you sure?" he challenged as he rested his cheek against her own, "Why not?"

Then and there, she couldn't wait to leave him flabbergasted as she knew she would. The phrase had been sitting on her tongue for a while now. She was just waiting for the right moment to say it to him. The same feelings ran through her core that very night she sat at her desk, reading the translation on _Google_. To be able to say that back to him, to mimic the perfect partial Italian of his accent, would be the best type of 'I love you'.

"Because, Senza di Te la mia vita non ha senso."

She felt his body freeze against her own, slowly lifting his head back to look at her. Goal accomplished, she rejoiced in her mind. Shocked, he was. So much so that he kept a blank expression for a good minute or so. Then, he shook his head back and forth, his eyes full of emotion.

"Senza di Te la mia vita non ha senso," he repeated so perfectly, making her look like a fool for even attempting. "Without you, my life has no meaning."

"And now you know, "she concluded.

"What on earth did I do to be able to deserve you?" he wondered. It was the other way around, she thought. However, before she could respond, he once again crashed his lips against her.

Next, the black leather jacket and grey hoodie on his back went flying across the room. Taking a moment to admire a form of beauty she had not been introduced to until now, a hand gently swept down the sculpted abdomen. All the while, his eyes never left whatever look played over her face.

Not long after, the black leather jacket and red floral shirt of her own were flying across the room. He did not take a moment for granted. She felt like a famous work of art in a museum, lying absolutely still in her jeans and black French-laced bra. He studied her features with appreciation for a good bit, before proceeding to go in for the purchase. She did not protest as his lips resorted back to her neck.

The closer he got to her cleavage, the higher her chin rose. At this point, she decided to just keep her eyes closed. The sensation would not allow her to keep them focused on anything but the back of her head.

His hands started moving towards her back. Then, as she felt the tugging on the back of her bra, she braced herself for the undoing of the clasps. An undoing, to her utter disappointment, that never came.

A loud ringing filled the air, pulling the both of them from their little bubble. Then, a weight of disappointment lowered itself on her chest as Finn began to pull away. The sound seemed to be coming from her pocket.

She would have hit ignore, but it was Will's number flashing on her phone and she knew that she had to answer. Sliding the icon to the right, she pressed the device to her hot ear. Before answering, she tried to silence any hints in her breathing pattern that would give away their present activities.

"Hello?"

"Rachel," it was definitely Will. "Where are you?"

She couldn't miss the concern in his voice. "We're in the woods," she wanted to remain as vague as possible.

"You're still with Finn?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "Is everything okay?"

"No, a-actually, they're not. Rachel, we need you to come home, right now. It's urgent."

Finn shot up, obviously eavesdropping on the phone call that interrupted them.

"I'm on my way," she replied before hanging up. It took seconds for the two to return to the state of being fully-dressed.

"What was that about?" Finn wondered aloud with a worried look on his face, straightening out the jacket she so swiftly threw on.

"I have no idea," she shook her head before moving to open the door in front of them.

And that's exactly how it was the moment they entered the front door. Not caring about the fact that her family still thought that Finn was a human, they strode into the living room, hand-in-hand. Déjà vu hit. All six were crowded in the living room, sitting silently still as the news rambled on the flat screen.

A new headline appeared on the screen in all caps.

 _THREE TEENS FOUND DEAD IN WOODS. SAME MYSTERIOUS MAULING AS NOAH PUCKERMAN._

Her heart dropped as she processed the information in her head. _This_ was the second attack that they were waiting for. Something or someone else was definitely in town.

Looking around as she had the last time they were all in here like this, she gathered the expressions of the others around her. All seemed to be the same. The only difference, in the midst of her scan, she felt a large hand grab a hold of hers, intertwining their fingers.

Looking up at him in her state of bewilderment, he gave her a look.

A look that said, _I don't know what's going on now, but we will get through this together._

* * *

 **I'm finally back, you guys. Sorry for taking so long to upload. College has really put a damper on my writing. Writer's block aside, I will try to get the next chapter to you all real soon. As a sort of apology, I made this chapter with more of a positive vibe. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! :) -Kat**


	21. Promise Me

**Chapter 20**

A silence settled over the large sitting area; it was an unfathomable type of silence. The television set had been muted a mere two hours ago, and now, not a single person spoke. No one knew what to say.

What words could have possibly been drawn together for a situation like this? With such a shocking revelation: a second attack, three more teens mutilated, and by a mysterious outside source… Where was the justification?

Like the rest, Finn couldn't answer that. Instead, he sat in the middle of the large lounging sofa, lost inside his confused head. So consumed, he couldn't pay any mind to Santana's fidgeting form on the right side of him. Neither could he hear the incessant tapping of Sam's foot against the floor, the soothing rubs from Elliot's hand against Olivia's back, or the nervous chattering of Emma's teeth.

Instead, just as in every other crisis he'd faced before, his attention was responsive to only one other person in the room. Turning his head to the left, he watched her intently, reprimanding himself for only being able to conjure one thought.

 _Focus, Finn; focus on the issue at hand_ …

But, seriously, how could he? Just an hour ago, he was in a state of complete bliss. So much so, that the outside world was but a blurry cloud of smoke and every little touch felt like a different type of afterlife.

Any efforts he put up at keeping self-control instantly came tumbling down, watching Rachel now. With bony elbows resting against her kneecaps, long fingers with chewed-down nails drove through the loose strands of her long brown hair… Much like his own had only moments ago.

A kaleidoscope of flashbacks danced around the back of his head, then, sitting amidst the concerned individuals. Forget the three teens. Forget the new monster that had found itself into town. The hairs on the back of his neck stood as goosebumps traveled down his body, feeling just like the bolt of an electric current.

The sound of her labored breathing was prevalent in his brain now. There was also the sinister smile on her beautiful face, the pressure of being held down by her strong body, the feeling of her lips against the crevices of his neck, the invigorating scent that radiated off of her marvelous skin, the intoxicating smell of the hair pooling over the sides of their bare shoulders…

The image of the black French lace she wore underneath her shirt haunted his thoughts, on repeat at least a dozen times. And just like that, he was a goner… Snatching the plush pillow propped perfectly next to him, no one raised an eyebrow when he arranged it over his lap.

Their oblivion resulted in his gratitude. If his mind was audible to anyone in this room, especially her, he'd be in a large amount of trouble.

Still, even after the struggle in his pants, he couldn't rid himself of the daydreaming. Maybe he'd have to physically remove himself from the room to do so. Or, maybe he'd have to think of something really unpleasant. Maybe that would erase the memory of how the metal clasps of her bra felt against his fingers, or the sense of accomplishment that began to move through him in the moment... Just a few more seconds and he would have been reintroduced to a picture of her body he hadn't experienced in a century.

Examining the giant space between the two of them on the sofa now, he wondered if this was all one big joke. She hadn't even spared him one glance since their arrival. Instead, her eyes remained on the silent television set, as if deeply in thought.

He knew Rachel well enough to know that she was.

As for the others, to Finn's absolute distaste, they'd been playing pretend. The fact that he was a vampire still hadn't been revealed. And, he really appreciated Rachel for keeping that secret on his behalf. However, he wished she would have spilled the can of beans. Considering the fact that he was much older and stronger than everyone else in this room, he didn't appreciate being talked around like an ignorant five-year-old.

A certain series of conversations between Sam and Will, in particular, nearly sent the lid flying off of his teapot.

This was earlier in the two-hour duration, when the group was still producing adequate conversation. Olivia's horrified babbling coincided with Santana's low obscenities in the Spanish language and Emma's calming coos.

"It's okay, my sweetheart," her high pitched voice wafted through the atmosphere, allowing Finn the notion that she really did consider these teens her biological children. "We're going to get through this. We always do."

That's when he heard their whispers, their disguised conversation. They were trying so hard to remain in a discreet manner; Finn wondered if they knew what they were actually saying.

"Will, what are we going to do about this…uhh…bear? We can't let…it…kill any more civilians. That's already four lives lost."

"And the list is only going to keep on the rise if we don't step in," Elliot added into the mix, only to reprimand his words as Olivia's concerned eyebrows raised in his direction.

"We'll figure out a plan," Will assured the two. There was something to his voice, so stern, so sure. He didn't seem scared in the slightest.

This was not the case with Sam. "What type of plan, exactly?" he urged. "What if this isn't our type of…bear?"

"No bear is truly safe, Samuel. They can all be hunted and killed with the right amount of focus and determination," Will replied.

 _Vampire,_ Finn thought, _For Pete's sake, just say 'vampire'._

The remainder of the time, he kept his eyes on Rachel, assuming that she must have at least one thing to add to the argumentation. However, she never said a word.

"Finn," Emma started him, being the first to break the miserable silence. "Would you like a cup of coffee or something? You just look so cold, holding that pillow so close. I could turn up the thermostat or get you a blanket."

His heart pounded, realizing someone had noticed a change made during his session of dirty thoughts. And with her foster daughter… That would be really hard to explain. Instead, he rose in posture.

"No thank you, Mrs. Schuester. I appreciate the offer, though."

She flashed her famous pearly whites, "Of course, my pleasure." She then transfixed her gaze upon her husband. Resting a hand of comfort against his shoulder, he smiled, grabbing it within his own and raised it to his lips.

Finn remembered Rachel once mentioning that Emma had experienced a world of pain in the final moments of her human life. She didn't go into depth, nor did she explain what happened to the young woman. Instead, she compared it to the loss of her father.

" _Our coping strategies are completely different," he remembered her explaining. "That, and Emma's a lot less selfish than I am."_

" _What's that mean?" he asked._

" _I've had many chances to let go of my hurt and find happiness again. But when the time came, I decided to keep my sorrows and dwell in it. Emma, on the other hand, took the first chance was offered. She's really strong… Sometimes I wonder if I could ever be like that."_

Watching the woman now, he would have to agree with Rachel. Her battle scars were hidden, for her eyes only. He would have never guessed that she had been through so much if he didn't know.

Emma was more than just admirable; she was inspirational. Somedays, he watched her talk to Rachel and the other teens, wondering what Caterina would have been like if she survived his birth and were ever present in his lifetime. Then, he thought of Carole, and decided that she was the only mother he really needed.

He was thrown off again when he noticed Rachel's eyes on him. "I need air," she whispered. The drop of a pen could be heard in the room, so he doubted her words were only meant for his ears. Still, when she rose from the couch, they worked like magnets. He didn't even care if everyone could see the bulge in his pants as the pillow dropped.

Following closely behind in her footsteps out the back door, she ripped the rug from beneath him when they reached the wooden patio. Disappearing into a gust of wind, he only had a matter of seconds to gain momentum and match her pace.

The task would not have been so difficult if he weren't so confused. However, he couldn't predict the path that she was taking. In turn, each little twist and turn in her motions sent him further off-guard.

Before he knew it, they were mimicking Tarzan, swinging from tree to tree. It took a while, but the branches soon began to expand proximity-wise, and then the falls were clear in his view. Ahead, there were only three more trees in front of them before she would fall over and into the icy water.

Since this morning, the beautiful weather dissipated, returning to its former gloom. Grey clouds now hugged a lower portion of the sky as thunder and lightning collaborated in the distance. As for the temperature, Finn knew if he was still human, two jackets would become a necessity. It seemed to have decreased by at least ten degrees.

His assumptions were proven correct when she came to a halt on the final tree. Stopping at the second to last, he watched her for a moment. Not caring for the frailty of the wood below her, she hugged the tree close to her side, one hand simply placed over her chest.

Caution accompanied his approach. She was like a deer in the wild. There was no telling how things would result. One ill motion and she could be off again.

"It appears we've found ourselves here, again." He whispered after flinging across the last set distance, standing behind her as he tightly gripped the branch above them to support himself.

Learning of the adjustment, she leaned all of her body weight against him, causing his grip to tighten.

"Always, "she responded.

In one swift motion, Finn transported them. Now, they sat side by side, on the same branch, avoiding any threat of an unpleasant plummet.

He gave her a few moments atop that branch, just to say anything. However, as time began to dwindle, he discovered her gaze fixed upon the snowcapped mountains in the distance.

"Okay," he finally intervened. This did nothing to capture her attention. Instead, she kept her gaze before her. "Hey," he said, turning her head gently with his finger underneath her chin. "Look at me. What's going on, Rachel? You haven't said one word, not even when the others were talking. I want to know what's up there in that pretty head."

"It's never going to be enough," she finally choked out. "I've realized that now."

"What?"

"There's always going to be something," she continued, as if Finn were expected to immediately make sense of her nonsense. She shook her head profusely at thoughts that Finn wished she'd just reveal.

What was with the hold up? What was so hard for her to say?

Then, his heart nearly stopped beating.

"Are-are you having second thoughts?" The suggestion sounded worse aloud than it did in his head. "About me?"

"No!" she immediately dismissed the idea. "Never," she reached for his hand and did not come up empty.

"I was thinking of us while everyone was talking," she let up. "The way we were in the house…what we were about to do…Then, I realized that I was this close to having my happy ending," she rose her thumb and index finger.

"Before the call…" he interjected.

"And then, poof, gone…" she motioned her hands in the air. "It never stops and when I realized that, I just had to get out of there."

"Well, I'm still here, aren't I?" he asked, pulling her closer to his side. "And, so are you? Right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"But, nothing," he spoke for her. "We're both still here. Nothing has happened to us."

"Not yet."

"Not ever," he assured. "I will take my last breath before I let anything happen to you."

"What about you, huh?" she asked, raising her voice. "Who's protecting you? Because, that's all I care about at this point; if I lose you, Finn…"

"What did I tell you that first time in the tree?" he dismissed her again.

She sighed, remembering. However, she remained silent, too stubborn to give in. This was one of the many odd traits that he loved about her.

Closing his eyes, he smiled before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I told you that I would not go anywhere until you physically ask me to."

"I know," she whispered, leaning closer into his side.

"I meant it then, and I mean it now."

She sighed again, pulling away to look at him. "Well, I'm not, ever... I don't care the circumstances. A life without you means no life at all."

"You know what they say about great minds," he winked, causing her to laugh a bit.

Seeing her smile lifted a collection of boulder rocks off of his chest. Her stress about uncertain possibilities, no matter how small, always upset him.

"Just make me a promise and I'll be alright for the day, okay?"

He then raised an eyebrow, looking to her with a smirk on his lips, "Hmm depends on the promise."

"Hey, I'm being serious," she playfully smacked his arm.

His laughter mellowed out to a smile, "Let's hear it."

"Promise me that when the time comes, if a time does come for a fight, you won't do anything stupid."

The words rang in his head for a moment, shooting him through a time portal and placing him in the center of the action, dating back nearly a century ago. To be exact, the last day they spent together before she was robbed from his side.

It was late afternoon. They'd gotten a late start to his lessons of early-staged vampirism, seeing as though she hadn't returned from her merciless killings until five in the morning.

" _How are you feeling?" he whispered from their spot on the bed of grass and leaves on the forest floor, holding her body closer to his, placing a soft kiss against her temple._

 _After showing her how to swing in the trees, his lesson on scaring away prey with fangs had just about the opposite affect on her. He didn't know if it was due to the lust in the moment or the overwhelming amount of emotion flooding between the two… Either way, she threw tradition to the wind and allowed him to claim her virtue._

" _Perfectly content," she replied, placing a soft kiss to the center of his bare chest. Hugging the discarded dress close to her bosom, she strained forward to meet his lips._

" _Any pain?" he asked. He still couldn't get it through his head that she was no longer the fragile little human girl._

" _Not anymore," she assured him, brushing a hand against his cheek, "just an immense love that could put the classics to shame."_

 _A renewed sense of joy made a way, sending him in a desperate need for every answer that she could provide. He needed every truth of this moment that there was._

" _Amelia, you must tell me what thoughts you are harboring at the moment. I need to know," he begged._

" _It's simple, I'm thinking of our new life together and all the things we'll do, places we'll go, people we'll meet. And even if our forever consists of just this, you will never hear a single complaint from these lips."_

" _So, no regrets?" he wondered cautiously._

" _Regrets? Finn, I've not a single one. This feeling is amazing," she gushed with a childish grin upon her features. He was glad, after all that had occurred within the past 48 hours that she hadn't yet lost that. "Now I see why it's so important to save this for your soul mate. It wouldn't have been the same with any other person."_

" _Thank you."_

" _For what?" he asked._

" _There's still light here," she told him, patting the place on her chest where her heart used to beat so predominantly. "I don't know how, after what they did to my dad and after all that I have done tonight, but it's there."_

" _Come here," he whispered, resting his chin against the top of her head. "You're never going to have to be alone again okay, Amelia? Hear me when I say this. You're home with me. Forever."_

" _Forever," she repeated._

 _They stayed this way until nightfall approached. Just a long moment of complete bliss, after making love for the first time… It was at the top of the list of defining moments in their history. Holding her as close as physically possible and whispering sweet nothings into her ear, the outside world again became a blur of nothing._

 _Then, as disappointed as he was to allow the remainder of the moment to fleet away, it was time to move forward. Standing in complete darkness, he assisted in re-strapping her corset and slid the silky dress back over her petite figure. In following moments, he explained the plan set by Antonio and Percy. An acquaintance was waiting within the walls of the abandoned apothecary on the other end of town._

 _There, they would discuss their escape and a course of action to take against the "believers", who, due to close eavesdropping from Percy, were expected to attack again that night._

" _Wait," she pulled his arm, stopping him right before the double doors once they arrived at the abandoned building. They were inside. He knew that much by the sound of their heartbeats. The only heartbeat he'd never be able to hear again would be Amelia's, standing before him. He wondered then how they were the same creature yet still so different. He'd have to ask Percy sometime in the near future. She held a lot more wisdom when it came to the world of the living dead._

" _What is it?" he asked, concern flooding his features._

" _I-I'm scared," she admitted, taking one big gulp," What if we don't get past this?"_

 _The look on her face sent despair pounding against his chest. The last thing he wanted was her distress. Holding her cheeks within the palms of his hands, he brought her closer to him. "Don't you worry about that, okay? Nothing is going to happen to you, Amelia. I'd sooner die before I let someone lay a hand on you again."_

" _What do you expect of me if something were to happen to you, then? I know none of these people and you're all that I have left and I can't possibly imagine even trying to go on all by myself forever…" he couldn't take her senseless rambling anymore._

" _Hey, princess," big, wet brown eyes looked up to meet his of dark amber. "Please, stop your fretting, for me? We're going to be fine, alright? After tonight, we're going to get as far away from here as possible and we're going to live our happily ever after. Forever, remember?"_

" _Do you promise me that?"_

" _With all of my heart, I do."_

 _She nodded, "Then, promise me something else. Promise me that whatever happens tonight, if something horrible does occur, you will not let your guard down. It is necessary that you consider yourself fully, Finn. Even if that means that I end."_

" _Amelia, you can't possibly expect m-"_

" _I know I'm being hypocritical. But, it's all I'm going to ask for," she sighed. "I've already lost too much. I don't think I can bear the thought of adding your name to the list of… You understand, right?"_

 _No matter how much he wanted to protest, he gave in for her sake, "I do. Just promise me something in return, Amelia."_

" _Anything," the soft whisper that escaped her mouth seemed to have warmed a bit of the chilling night air._

" _Do not let your thoughts consume you," he warned._

" _I promise."_

 _Grabbing his hand, she braced herself with a deep breath before rising on her tippy toes to meet his lips. Holding her tight in their embrace, he showed her all of the love he had for her in his heart; maybe even just a bit more. So much passion left his body, it was as if breaking away could never be an option. In that moment, he knew that it wasn't. What he wasn't aware of, however, was the fact that this would be the last kiss they'd share for some 150 years or so._

 _In the dark room, not much would have been distinguishable to the human eye. However, the moment the two walked in, he could make out every portion of the tiny space. Broken bottles, slashed paintings, covered furniture…_

 _It didn't take very long to register the faces of Percy and Antonio. Standing near one of the closer walls, the light of the moon shining through a shattered window animated their worried faces. Then, as if magically so, spun around the brunette he hadn't seen in decades._

 _Cecelia Alexiou, Percy's oldest friend… They'd been introduced maybe a month into settling in with Percy in England. And though her beauty was just as immense as Percy's, with flawlessly rosy pink cheeks and crystal clear blue eyes, the girl had always remained a platonic female connection in his eyes. The only one to ever fall for her was Antonio. Back when they had first been acquainted, the two carried out a very short-lived fling. The moment it all came to an end was around the same time that Antonio began to hang on every word their blonde leader spoke._

 _He wondered if Percy knew the feelings that Antonio mercilessly dragged around for her. But, before he could further the thought, she took the time to speak._

" _Glad you finally decided to show up."_

" _My apologies," he replied still holding Amelia at his side, "We were held up."_

" _Yeah, we heard you all the way across town," Antonio smirked. A light blush fell over his cheeks, feeling her grip tighten against his hand._

" _Finnegan," Cecelia took the awkward tension in the air as an opportunity to make her presence known. Walking forward, she placed a light kiss to cheek, "Nice to see you again." The accent behind her tongue was hard to mistake. As well as Percy, Ancient Greece was her foundation._

" _You, as well, Cecelia," he smiled._

" _And you are, young one?" she moved to the side of him. Reaching out an arm equivalent to marble, she took Amelia's left hand and raised it to her lips. He watched as Amelia shifted nervously throughout the process._

" _A-Amelia B-erry," she stammered after some time._

 _If he were looking in from the outside, it would have been very difficult to believe that someone like Cecelia would intimidate the girl standing at his side. Forever trapped in the body of a fifteen year old, she was one of the few who Amelia stood taller than. Just a little girl, and still, the hand inside his own shook with intimidation. If the situation were different, he would have found comedy in it all._

" _Mmmm," Cecelia hummed, running a finger through a loose strand of his love's dark brown hair, "interesting."_

" _What is?" Finn asked._

" _She's brand new. I can practically smell the freshness in her blood." A somewhat familiar voice emerged from another point in the room and before he could place the source, it was already apparent. The same moonlight illuminated the face of a brunette slowly stalking toward the group._

 _This time, the woman was one of Antonio's old acquaintances, Camilia Bruno. They had been childhood friends in Italy and reunited some years after they'd moved to the Americas. It was such a pleasant surprise to Antonio that he invited her to stay for a few weeks within the walls of the temporary home they were sharing._

 _With Percy's known repellence to the woman and her obnoxious attitude, Finn always assumed that Antonio would abandon his long-lived crush and dive into things with the brunette. That was how he'd been doing things for quite some time, in hopes the blonde would become mad with jealousy. However, after a period of speculation, it became apparent that the girl's eyes of emerald green held a different direction…_

 _Feelings began to spark up on her end, and unlike Cecelia, there was nothing platonic about the connection. In the beginning it was senseless flirting from her end and he made a point to let it go. Still reeling from the love he thought he had for Zara, he felt absolutely nothing. But, the thing about Camilia was that she was always a very persistent girl. Mindless flirting turned to intentional touching, and before he knew it, his desperate search for an end to the pain of his heartbreak led her straight into his bed._

 _It was this way until things began to transpire during her stay. Arguments erupted, she wanted more than what he had to offer. A life together, love, etc…He didn't want it. He didn't want anything at all. Well, maybe just one thing. With his emotions shut completely off, all he could think about was the gooey and warm dark red liquid; the one thing he'd kill for. Before he knew it, he was placed on a bender and every small town within a small radius of the group was rampaged. In turn, this sent all of them packing. Camilia ran in the opposite direction as the other three left due to fear of being found._

 _These particular three decades, in the early 1700's, he referred to as his Dark Days. He'd never been so violent, so capable of so many slaughters. The guilt that accompanied him afterwards could have been enough to kill him if he weren't immortal. As for Amelia, he never came around to revealing his past with the brunette girl._

 _A decision he now regretted, taking into consideration the sinister smile on the face of the woman now standing beside Cecelia, looking down at the love of his life like a piece of meat._

" _I've only heard rumors of this type of our kind, but now…" Cecelia commented. "Marvelous…"_

" _Don't work yourself into a frenzy," Camilia rolled her eyes. "I've seen many of them in my times of travel. They're beginning to conquer the world by a storm." It was when she reached forward to run fingers of her own through Amelia's locks that his instincts kicked in._

 _In one quick motion a gasp left Amelia's mouth as he pulled her behind his body. Taking a hold of his arm, he felt her head rest against his back. Her fear was elevated._

" _She's not a toy to prod at. No one else touches her, is that understood?"_

 _Looking to the ground, Cecelia nodded in acceptance while Camilia took his threat as a challenge. Lifting her lips into a seductive smirk she crossed her arms and moved before him in a cat-like swagger._

" _Protective of the new one, aren't we?" She rolled her tongue on the 'R' with her thick Italian accent. "Don't worry; I'm not going to hurt your precious one."_

" _What are you doing here anyways, Camilia?" Antonio asked from Percy's side. "Where's Luke?"_

 _He was referring to the boyfriend that she had transformed to vampirism some decades before. Finn remembered Antonio mentioning it to them a while ago._

" _Where do you think?" she asked. "He's dead. You're stalker made sure of it."_

" _Stalker?" Amelia whispered from behind him._

" _Shhh," he tried to sooth her._

" _So, she doesn't know?" Camilia chuckled. "Are you guys still on the run? Is she in for a bit of a treat…"_

" _Shut it," Percy warned._

" _And what are you going to do if I don't?" she pushed the now seething blonde._

" _You don't want to be here to find out."_

 _Paying no regards to her heated retaliation, Camilia's eyes instead returned to Finn. And it was in that moment that he realized she was now the one with no emotions. Another thing he realized, she had yet to move past the pain of the past. If she weren't so arrogant about it, he'd make time to feel guilt for his actions._

" _I will say, Finnegan," she started again. "One thing hasn't changed. You have a bit of a type. Something about those brunettes…"_

" _You don't know a thing," he spit through his teeth._

" _You're in love with this one," she observed. "I know that. I saw the way you were during her funeral."_

 _Just then, as if the moon shone a little brighter in the small room, he noticed that her provocative satin dress was a shade of dark black. So, she'd attended the funeral. He wondered just then how long she'd been here._

" _Amelia," she purred the name of his love before turning back to him._

" _Such a shame... If only you could have harbored those kind of emotions nearly a century ago. Maybe it would have been enough to reciprocate all that I was willing to offer you."_

 _Amelia's grasp on his arm tightened then and he wanted nothing more than to turn around and beg for her forgiveness, apologize for never telling her the full truth._

 _It was then that he realized his mistake in taking her here. He knew that she no longer felt safe, and with the way that things were turning out, neither did he. If anything, he felt on edge…a feeling that he should not have with someone's life depending on his own. The woman before him seemed more like a threat the more she spoke and he silently cursed Percy and Antonio for the planned reunion, whether her presence was expected or not._

 _Maybe if there could have been an escape planned for just the two of them…_

 _Cecelia placed a hand on Camilia's shoulder, "I think that's enough, Camilia. We're wasting the valuable time we could be using to develop strategy."_

" _No," she shook her head slowly, her eyes remaining on Finn's. "The timing's perfect, actually."_

" _What are you-" before Cecelia could question her words, her fingers began to snap furiously._

" _Guys!" she hollered and then whistled._

 _Wreckage then sounded from all sides of the room. Glass breaking, doors being kicked in, boots on the concrete floor… Angry screams could be deciphered as the space lit with a bright orange glow. Human men surrounded the five in the same amount of time it took Camilia to take off in a gust of wind._

 _He was lowering himself in his defensive crouch with his fangs shown when realization sunk in. The doors behind him had also been kicked in. There were men behind him. Before he could turn around, her grasp was no longer against his arms. Instead, he whipped around to find her in their custody._

 _A distraction… That's what it had to be, because as he watched her desperately thrash against the men, he was restrained by four others._

" _No, no, no," he cursed. "This can't be happening. Amelia!"_

 _She put on a good fight in the beginning, being able to free herself twice. A number of men were tossed into nearby trees by her newborn strength. However, those men soon got back up and the group gained in numbers._

" _Get your hands off of me!" her cries of defeat were like daggers to his heart. All the while, he remained useless against the four set of arms accompanying his shoulders. "Let me go!" she screamed._

 _Fury rose within him. He wanted to kill every single one of them. He wanted to rip out each individual throat with his teeth, taste the blood of the perpetrators daring enough to touch her... He didn't even care if this meant sacrificing his own life. But as the injection found its way to his neck, he felt his body only growing weaker._

 _So he watched, screaming out her name again as her teary eyes met his._

" _Ow!" she screamed as one of the men injected her neck with the same substance they had with him moments before. Vervain…So focused on the scene in front of him, he couldn't hear the struggles of the other three in the room. "What are you doing to me?" her voice broke as the exhaustion began to creep in. Even in her powerful immortal state, he could already tell that she was no match to the clear liquid behind the syringe._

" _Amelia," he coughed. "I'm so sorry."_

" _Help me," she cried as she began to fall to the ground, just about the same time that he did. When he hit the hard concrete, he felt nothing but defeat. The situation was now a lost cause with no saving hope, the same way he knew that his heart would be in moments to come, considering what he had to do next._

" _Forget," he whispered._

" _What?" she cried. "What did you say?"_

 _It would work. They were close enough for his eyes to capture hers. Just a few words and her pain would be gone. There would be nothing more for her to hold onto, to fight against for. And once she regained her strength, he knew that she would be able to break herself free from these men._

" _Forget me, Amelia. You have to forget." "Everything."_

 _If he thought his heart was broken by having to surrender this way, it shattered into a million tiny fragments when he watched her eyes go blank. He was no longer her love, her home, her forever… Instead, the brown he loved so much bore straight through him in an unfamiliar type of way. The same way one viewed a stranger…_

 _He had just become no more of a stranger to her than any of the other "believers" in this room._

" _I love you," he whispered as he watched the group whisk her away into the darkness of the night._

 _Then, darkness of his own followed as his face hit the concrete._

" _Finn, Finn…"_

"Finn, are you okay?"

"Huh?" he asked, falling into a state of temporary confusion before returning to his current surroundings. He was no longer on the dusty old floor of the apothecary. Instead, he looked down and around at the snowcapped mountains in the distance and the extravagant greenery for miles. He then felt his arm against the shoulders of the one he was previously reaching his arms out to, calling her name as they carried her away from him.

"I got scared for a second," she smiled, caressing his cheek with her hand. "I thought you might have gotten lost up there."

"Sorry," he sighed. "I guess I had a lot more on my mind than I initially thought."

The guilt he'd been trying to push back was now starting to seep in again. He was lying to her. He'd been lying to her for quite some time now. But it was the same excuses. He didn't want to lose her and he knew that if he revealed the fact that he erased her memories all those years before, that's exactly what would happen.

"Care to share?" she tilted her head in morbid curiosity. "I'm dying to know what thoughts I have to compete with."

 _Honesty_ was the giant knife around the corner, waiting to plunge itself directly into his heart. If she walked away, he'd never be the same.

The previous image his brain provided him before he returned to reality promoted itself to a loop now. The same scene played over and over again… They were carrying her away.

His thoughts from that moment were now present in his screaming conscious _. He would never see her again. She wouldn't know who he was. They would never get the happy ending that they planned on. They would never love again. She was lost to him forever. He would sooner die than move on._

Looking down at the girl watching his face closely with eyes of desperation, a loud sigh of relief left his mouth.

"Come here," he closed his eyes, pulling her closer against his body. Wrapping his arms firmly around her shoulders, he rested his lips to the top of her head. The smell of her hair was different, of course. It had been nearly two hundred years. But the feeling of her skin against his had never changed. Neither did the sound of the pattern in her breathing.

"What was that for?" she asked after finally pulling away.

"It's my turn to demand promises."

She waited.

"I can't lose you. Ever. I know I don't say it enough. But, Rachel, the very thought of someone taking you away from me…" he stopped himself, raising his fist to his mouth, remembering the "believers". "You're my everything."

The words didn't take very long to sink in. And once they did, she took it upon herself to return the gesture, leading him into her embrace. And they stayed this way, until the orange glow of the surprising sunset shown against their faces.

The icy breeze was no threat to their spot on the branch. If anything, it was the most comfort he'd felt in ages. With her frame leaning against his, she rested her head against his chest as his arms wrapped around hers. Resting his chin against the top of her head, they pointed out shapes in the clouds until they were gone and replaced by the darkening sky.

Soon enough, the glow of the stars and moon replaced the bright orange and they knew that it would soon be time to return. He didn't like the disappointment that settled within his chest once they landed on the ground. However, her hand intertwining with his took some of that feeling away.

Now, as he followed in her footsteps back towards the house, she appeared to be in a reverie of her own again. Before he could ask, she spoke, "I wonder if they identified the victims yet."

"Well, were about to find out," he replied, noticing the warm glow of the house in the near distance.

"But, hey…" he stopped, tugging gently on her arm. She turned to look up at him. "Whatever we face in there, know that it's not going to change us, okay?"

She nodded, allowing him to pull her into his arms again. One would think that after the many times they'd been doing it, she'd become sick of the embraces by now. But, she never did. "I'm going to love you walking out of that house just as much as I did walking into it."

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his hand still within hers. "Then let's go," she told him.

An engulfment of warmth occurred, pushing open the same door they'd used to escape hours earlier. The first thing he noticed walking behind Rachel was a loud female voice. However, it didn't belong to any of the other girls in the household.

Making the round behind Rachel into the living room, it was then that he realized it belonged to a reporter, speaking through the speakers of the large TV.

No one seemed to have moved an inch since the last time they were in this room. If anything, the group looked more on edge. Maybe it was due to what was being discussed by said reporter.

Rachel's assumptions were correct. All three victims of last night's mysterious mauling had finally been identified. Stopping short, he could have crushed Rachel's hand with the squeeze he applied. Three simple images popped up on the television with the nonchalance of the lady in the background continuing to filter the packed air around them.

"Oh, no," Rachel gasped. "Finn, I'm so sorry."

Three pictures, that's all they were… Three football pictures from this year's season.

The white words on bottom "breaking news" red strip on the television now read:

"Jamie Pierson, Tanner Stevens, and…"

He found it almost impossible to process this. He imagine the nine lettered name listed below as something associated with death. Not after what had recently happened to Puck. But, there it was, right in front of him on the television screen.

"Mike Chang."

* * *

 **Hey guys! So, i'm back... Yes, i've been gone a really long time. I sincerely apologize for that. It's not due to a lack of trying. I have been typing and retyping this chapter for so long, wondering where the hell i would take it and i wanted it to be perfect. That, with the stress of finals and just college in general have put a strain on my writing altogether. However, i remained positive and chose not to give up. Hence, here we are with Chapter 20! I hope you all enjoy! Also, Happy New Years! Nothing better than a fresh start, am i right? Hope 2018 brings nothing but smiles and laughter to all of you! -Kat**


	22. Waiting

**Chapter 21**

He didn't spend the night on Sunday as he'd initially promised. She'd waited by the window for a long while, even made Santana bring the coffee to her upstairs, in hopes that he'd change his mind and show. Each little movement in the corner of her eyes even made her jump up to the lock.

In the end, it was to no avail. Once the clock struck two, she pronounced her cause lost. Pulling back the thick layer of blankets that Emma assorted over her bed earlier in the day, she climbed between the silk sheets and greeted a new type of cold.

She left one lamp on as a nightingale if he were to make any swift last-minute decisions. Then, after a restless hour or two, tossing and turning harder than the wind knocking the trees against her home, she woke to find no sign of him, yet again.

Instead, the presence of a hard snow falling in the dark grabbed her attention. Complete silence followed the discovery. No swooshing sound from the wind outside, no creaks in the house, no motion from downstairs… _Eerie_ , she thought, hugging the black nightgown closer against her torso.

With more time on her hands, she knew that returning to a sleep, she hadn't fallen into in the first place, completely evaded the picture. Any images strewed over her sketchpad at this hour would only mirror her frightening nightmares. Nor could she concentrate enough to sit down, write out her feelings into a poem in her notebook. Only one alternative remained. And, as inconvenient of the timing, she deemed it acceptable.

Finding the smooth surface of her piano, she lifted the cover and rested her fingers against the welcoming keys. Channeling everything bubbling around in her heavy head, she moved against the instrument with precision. Before long, a certain array of tones, ones completely new to her ears, made their way to the large space surrounding her.

Shortly after, a tired-eyed Emma breezed in through the white wooden door, plopping down on the edge of her large bed. She didn't say anything to disrupt the flow of the brilliant music, she didn't reprimand in any form for Rachel's early-morning playing… She just kept her eyes closed, taking in the melodious sound.

After some time, she could no longer handle the deafening silence inside of her head. Replacing the cover over the keys, she faced the woman.

"That was beautiful," Emma whispered. She seemed to be in some semi-conscious state. One shove backwards onto the soft surface of her bed and she probably wouldn't rise.

"Thank you," Rachel replied.

"Does it have a name?" she asked, looking around for signs of a pen and paper, popular gadgets when Rachel was in the composing mood. In all honesty, she was only playing at random. Still, her brain generated some form to offer in return.

"It's called _Waiting_."

She nodded in appreciation, humming the tune. "Very peaceful, calming…" She then took in Rachel's appearance. "Have you been up all night?"

"Can't sleep," she admitted with the slightest shrug of her shoulders.

"Then, how about you get dressed and we head downstairs?" she asked in her soothing voice. It was times like these that always brought a clear image of Anna-Claire back into her mind. There was the same sunny sky above them, a beautiful meadow and dozens of wildflowers, the hazel eyes shining down at the younger form of herself, the blonde tint of Anna-Claire's long curly hair swaying with the wind…

"That sounds nice," she smiled at the woman, appreciating the fact that she was sacrificing her sleeping time for Rachel's comfort. She always did so much and expected so little in return. Rachel wondered how that was; how that never got beneath her skin. If it were up to her, she would've already gone insane.

"Make sure to layer up," she reminded her, hovering in the doorway. "Today's going to be a cold one."

"I know," Rachel nodded in agreement, and she wasn't referring to the snow, or any element of the weather.

In her closet she found a pair of thermal tights, dark blue jeans, a long-sleeved white undershirt, her favorite maroon colored fuzzy sweater, and her olive green fur-hooded cargo. To match, she grabbed her favorite pair of brown combat boots.

The overhead heater in the bathroom kept her comfortable as she took in the image of her face. Forget the sleepless night she'd just encountered. Forget the heavy feeling in her chest, even the dark purple of the bags under her eyes. No matter the circumstances, she had to pull herself together today.

In the eyes of someone who would be looking to her for a system of support, for a shoulder to cry on, she could not allow herself to be weak. With this being stated, she took the time to drag a brush through the mess of her hair, apply a small coat of mascara to her blood-shot eyes, and spray his favorite scent over her neat outfit.

Once the scarf and gloves were added to the shebang, she reached into one of her bedside drawers where she knew she'd last left her beanie. Arranging it carefully over her ears in the mirror of her dresser, she took a deep breath.

"Hey," she practiced her empathy. "How are you feeling today?"

 _No._ She frowned, immediately dispelling the attempt. It was too generic and impersonal for someone _as_ personal as Finn. She had to dig deeper. But, could she? She sighed.

She'd never been faced with this before, having to be the wind beneath the wings of someone who'd lost another- yes, there was the scenario with her father after they lost her mother, but he sort of bounced back on his own, no effort from her side necessary. So, to say that she was a bit lost was a little more than an understatement. She was always that flightless bird. To this day, she wondered how Will and Emma got through it.

 _Emma;_ the name sent fireworks off in her thought process. Of course, how hadn't she thought of it before? She would go downstairs and get everything that she needed to know from the woman with all the wisdom.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, she encountered the woman as she was finishing on a blood bag of her own. After tossing the pouch into the garbage, she handed one over to Rachel.

"I figured you'd be pretty hungry since you skipped out on dinner last night."

Until this moment, she didn't even realize. She'd really been preoccupied at that window.

"Thank you," she ripped the cap off with her teeth.

"Do you want some coffee?" she asked, holding the pot over a cup.

"Sounds great," she nodded. "Can you put some of that honey flavoring in like you usually do?"

"Don't even have to ask me twice."

Once the hot cup was placed into her hands, Emma motioned for the back door. "How about we go watch the snow before the others start to get up?"

It was cold, sitting on the back patio, but the soothing liquid kept her content. Light began to seep in through the darkness in the sky as they watched the snowflakes fall and stick to the ground. It wasn't enough for school to be canceled, but she'd be lying if she hadn't considered it once she looked out the window this morning.

"You're perplexed about something," Emma observed as Rachel took another sip, "Finn?"

In the past couple of years, maybe even decades, Rachel was always reluctant to open up to the woman sitting next to her. She remembered just months before when they were sitting in this exact spot, the way she shut her out. But now, she didn't really see the point in any of it. She needed to get her thoughts out in the open.

She guessed that he brought that out in her. She wasn't sure. All she knew was now, after having known Finn for some time, she hated to keep some things balled up in her head.

So, she nodded and remained responsive. "I'm worried about him."

"Did you hear from him last night?" Emma wondered. Unfortunately, she could only offer the slow shake of her head.

It was excruciating, the feeling of having your one and only confidant missing. But she couldn't exactly prosecute him for it. Hell, she was the _last_ advocate when it came to the process of moving on.

Grief, no matter the level or cause, has always been the meanest monster in this world. And, it's only worse for Vampires. Century after century, humans have come and gone. This was why she never became attached-well, _that_ , and her immense hatred for the human species. Making friendships with only herself, her inner tolerance extended only to the family that took her in.

But, Finn was different. She knew this from their first meeting. His compassion was too strong, too hard to miss. There was no question as to how he had so many friends and admirers.

And, the guys who were killed on Saturday, those were his friends. Somewhere along the way, Finn had allowed himself to grow attached to those _humans_. That much was present on his face in her living room, discovering this weekend's tragedy.

She remembered holding him in her arms, after the initial shock had worn off. Repeatedly, he asked why, and what this mysterious source wanted? Rocking back and forth, the devastation in his voice tore up her insides.

"He probably just needs his space," Emma assured her.

She knew this. That's why she wasn't blowing up his phone, or bombarding Percy and Toni with a million questions. They were like the same person now, so she knew the way his brain worked. She knew where he was, just as he knew where she was. When he was ready to reach out, he would. It was that simple.

But that didn't mean that she didn't feel the familiar sting in her chest of longing for someone she couldn't have.

The only thing that kept her assured was the notion that he'd come to thank her for it later. Taking a deep breath, she nodded.

"Yeah, It's just, I feel really alone," She admitted. She wasn't going to tell Emma that in previous nights, she'd allowed him through her window and into her bed. But, there were many other ways that she felt alone without him. "I miss him."

"Well, maybe he'll be at school today," she offered. "I could talk to Carole if you want."

This was where her hope had shifted after she found him missing again this morning. Surely, he wouldn't miss school. Then, she thought of the aftermath of this weekend, the attack probably to be discussed in the hallways, maybe even an announcement over the intercom.

"You don't have to," she replied, shaking her head. Then a thought occurred to her. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?" she asked, unsure of what she was asking.

"I don't know the first thing about consolation, Emma. I've always been the one that needed it. And now, I'm so lost. I feel like it's important to let him breath on his own, but I also feel like maybe I should be doing more for him. How did you do it for so long, with me?"

"I had faith." She responded simply.

"Well, you know where I stand on the issue of higher powers…" she began.

"No, I meant, I had faith in myself and in you." She told me. "Even after all of the screaming matches and the lashing out, I'd see it flicker in your eyes…Even in the beginning with your humanity off."

"See what?"

"These tiny cries for help," she told her. "I couldn't give up on you because I knew that somewhere deep down inside, you needed me. So, I fought and so should you. There's no shortage that comes with being there for someone. You do all that you can for the people you love."

"You think I _love_ him?" She hadn't heard another person tell her that before.

"It's hard not to," she eyed her, taking a sip of her coffee. "The way you two are with each other, it's like you knew one another in a different lifetime or something. You fit like two gloves in this little bubble, away from everyone else, even when you don't realize it." "It's very hard not to be envious."

"Envious?" Rachel asked with disbelief, placing her cup on the table. A wide smile found its way to her cheeks, lifting a bit of the weight off of her chest. "You and Will are like two peas in a pod. It doesn't get much more perfect than that."

"I do love him a lot," she smiled to herself.

"Of course you do," Rachel told her. "It used to annoy me so much, but then I realized that it was because I was actually envious of the two of you."

"You were jealous of us?" It was Emma's turn to be shocked.

"How could I not be? I've always wanted that with someone."

"Well, now you have it." She announced as if Rachel won some award. On most days, looking at Finn, she felt that she had.

"I do," she nodded, feeling the sting of longing in her chest more strongly now than she had moments before.

"He tells you that he loves you a lot." Emma noted, "I heard him out in the woods on Saturday when you were returning."

"Yeah," more pain followed.

"Have you told him-?"

"Not yet," she cut her off. "I can't…"

"Why not?" she asked as if it weren't really as complicated as it were. She knew that anyone else looking in wouldn't really think that it was. Some days her reasons didn't make much sense to her. But still, they were her reasons. And after all that she had been through, to ruin something finally so good in her life…

She couldn't continue the thought.

"I'm scared," she wouldn't lie anymore. "That word has only brought a lot of death and heartbreak and destruction into my life. It's a four-lettered curse. If I ever allowed myself to unleash that on Finn, I don't think I'd ever be able to forgive myself."

"Sweetheart," Emma rested her hand atop hers. "If that's what you're feeling inside," she motioned to where her heart used to beat, "you can't worry about the past. Be in the now."

Before she could respond, someone opened the glass patio door. Turning around, a fully dressed Santana greeted them.

"What are you guys doing out here? It's freezing!" she smiled. She too was still half asleep, Rachel could tell that much by her tired eyes. (For a group of Vampires, they sure did love to sleep.)

Emma looked to Rachel for approval to get up. She nodded, following her footsteps back into the warmth of the home.

As Emma responded to the girl, Rachel found the others in their normal morning dances around the kitchen. Will watched the news on the TV with a cup of coffee in his hands, Olivia and Elliot sucked on blood bags at the dining table, and Sam scrolled through his cellphone at the counter.

Rachel moved to watch the snow continue to hammer down from the window in the living room as Emma brought her another cup of coffee. This time, she left her alone to collect her thoughts as they conversed in the kitchen. And, Rachel was very thankful for this. She needed time to really sit and wonder how today would play out.

When it was finally time to leave, she grabbed her satchel from upstairs and allowed Sam to take the keys to her Ferrari. She wasn't really up for driving today. Her mind was too distracted, and with today's snowy weather, that's the last condition someone behind the wheel should be in. Besides, Sam always jumped at the opportunity to operate the sports car.

Getting to the school, her heart sped two times its beat scanning the entire parking lot for the jet black Mercedes Benz. She sunk back in her seat when her eyes came up empty. No matter how hard she initially tried to protest, her hopes were officially up.

She was right. Walking into first period, she was greeted by an empty desk.

"So, who's ready for the pop quiz?" Mrs. Bankston pranced in through the front door, too bubbly for some of the students' taste. She could care less. As the hour went by, she remained distant to her surroundings.

The nervous fidgeting of Quinn Fabray on the side of her, nor her baby's heartbeats coming from her stomach, could claim Rachel's attention. Instead, it remained undivided on two things, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room and the door. Each time the hands ticked, she watched anxiously, jumping every time it did open.

But, it was never him.

Once the bell rang, signaling the end of first period, she couldn't understand why she was still so hopeful. It was a bit obvious that he would be a no-show today.

And maybe that was a good thing? In switching classes, she noticed that the hallways were, in fact, buzzing with this weekend's findings.

Lunch time came as quickly as it went. She thought of waiting at their table in the middle of the cafeteria, but ditched the idea altogether, knowing that she'd probably just look like an idiot, pretend-eating alone.

Instead, she climbed the stairs to the school's library and found an empty corner to attempt her homework in. However, the deafening silence brought no success, so she closed her eyes and leaned her head against one of the book shelves.

Staring up at the ceiling, she frantically tapped her toes against the carpeted floor and wondered how people did this. This feeling in her chest, was it normal? It felt like her lungs were beginning to collapse against each other.

How could some couples spend weeks, even months away from each other? She felt like her entire world was going to fall apart after only two days.

The bell stole her from her mind and she was left scrambling on the floor, trying to collect her books back into her bag.

Just when she thought things could only get better from the point she was at…English became almost too much to bear. Mr. Spencer's words began to correlate into nothing more than a big boring blob of nothingness. So much so, that it reminded her of the grownups in _Charlie Brown._

About halfway through the lesson on _The Canterbury Tales,_ she began to feel trapped. Her throat was on the verge of closing and her heartrate was increasing to never-before-seen speeds. Raising her hand, Mr. Spencer allowed her a trip to the bathroom. Getting to one of the many sinks, she gripped the ends tight and took in her face in the mirror before her.

All she could see was disappointment. She looked as if someone killed her puppy or took away her favorite toy. Running the tap, she threw a few handfuls of water against her face. She remembered applying mascara this morning the moment the black streaks began to trickle down with the droplets.

"Crap," she whispered, reaching for a few paper towels. That was when she heard it.

A single sniffle.

She wasn't alone in this bathroom. Two heartbeats fluttered from the final stall. And suddenly, she knew with whom she shared the small space.

"Quinn?" she called.

"Go away," she moaned in between her sobs. _But, why was she crying?_

Luckily enough, she left the door to the stall unlocked. Slowly pushing it open with the tip of her boot, she found the blonde sitting on the toilet seat, shakily wiping at her eyes with a few pieces of bath tissue.

If Rachel were still human, carrying a baby, and worrying about things as simple as germs, this definitely wouldn't be the place to run. Then again, she knew the options were limited when you were a teen in high school, without the powers of compulsions, and faculty members constantly walking up and down the deserted hallways.

The girl only looked up at her concerned expression before burying her face in her hands. "What's wrong?" she tried to offer. But, like earlier this morning in the mirror, her voice lacked all forms of emotion. Gosh, she wasn't good at this. Her communications skills were like dirt.

"Leave me alone," she cried, shoving past Rachel. Then, just when she thought she'd be out the door, ridding her of the petty drama, she stopped in front of the mirror to examine her swollen face. Of course she did, she scoffed. She was Quinn Fabray. "You're the last person I want to see right now."

"Ditto," Rachel whispered under her breath.

"It's your fault, you know" She looked at her through the mirror.

"My fault?" What was she being blamed for _now_? She looked at her and could only see a crying Emily Fabray on the night that she killed her. "What could possibly be my fault?"

"You told him to tell me no that night. I know it. You didn't want him helping me take care of my baby."

"What night?" she asked, confused. "Who are you talking about?"

"Finn!" she exclaimed, moving forward to slam her palm against Rachel's cheek.

It took her aback, she would admit that. However, instead of retaliating, she remained completely still. Of course, shrilling anger, a normal effect of being slapped in the face, pulsated through her veins. It didn't help that she was normally short tempered in the presence of humans she didn't know. However, another murder was the last thing that this town needed.

"He doesn't want to be with me anymore, and it's all because of you." She tested again.

"Quinn you need to back up, right now," Rachel warned.

"It was always going to be you," she continued to senselessly ramble to herself. "Everyone wants a chance to play with the shiny new toy. I should've known that on the first day."

She didn't know if the girl just referred to her as 'the interesting new girl' or a slut… Either way, the result left her feeling, offended, a horrible mixture with the lingering anger. Blood began to drip down her hands as her fingernails stabbed into her palms.

"I would never cheat on him with his best friend. That's why he chose me. Not because I'm some shiny new toy or whatever you say. So, please, just accept it and quit condemning me."

"He told you?" Great, this seemed to have set off a brand new type of bomb. "That is none of your business!" She went to slap her again, but before she could get any closer, Rachel grabbed her arms and swiftly pinned her against the bathroom wall.

Anxious eyes now stared down at her from where they were and before she could scream, Rachel placed her hand over the girl's mouth. Muffled sobs started up and before she could tell the girl anything, a knocking presented itself at the bathroom door.

"Rachel, is everything alright in there?"

As if she didn't have enough to deal with, with the girl before her. Mr. Spencer's concerned voice radiated from out in the hallways.

"Don't say a word, don't scream… You know what? Don't make any type of sound, alright? You had those morning throw-up thingies and have been in here ever since."

The girl nodded before she slowly removed her hand. As the door squeaked open, they both turned to greet Mr. Tanner.

"I was worried something was wrong," A flood of relief appeared to be moving over his face. "Why aren't the two of you in class?"

"I found Quinn hurled over on the floor," Rachel lied. "She's been throwing up nonstop and I thought it would be best if I stayed with her."

"Oh dear," he commented. It was now apparent around school that Quinn was pregnant. The news had spread like wildfire from the first person to find out's mouth. So, he obviously knew the reason. But he was a relatively young, single male. Something also told her that he wasn't well-versed in Biology. So, no matter how inaccurate the statement, she knew that she could get away with it. "Why didn't you get someone?"

"I couldn't leave her."

"Right," he nodded. "How about we take you to the nurse?"

To her complete surprise, Quinn began to slowly back behind Rachel. Some sort of desperation radiated from the teen. Forget the previous tension between the two, she was scared of something. And, maybe that could explain the tears from earlier.

"Actually, I think she's okay. Would it be alright if I help clean up before we head back to class? We'll only be a few more minutes."

"I don't know, maybe you girls should-"

Rachel interrupted him. "It's a girl thing, Mr. Spencer. Please? It'll only take a few minutes."

"Are you pregnant too?" By the spike in the girl's heartbeat, Rachel assumed Quinn was offended by the comment.

Rolling her eyes, she took him by the shoulders. "Forget all about this conversation. You know that I am missing from class. You don't know why, but I have a valid excuse. I'll be back before the bell to collect my things from my desk. That's all you have to worry about. Now, go back to class. You have a room full of curious students and a lesson to teach."

Once he walked out, she turned back to the shaking blonde.

"Okay, talk."

"How did you do that? Why couldn't I talk? How did you pin me against the wall so fast? _What are you?_ "

She had to distract her from her incessant behavior, so she thought of something else to compel her with.

"Why were you crying when I walked in here?" She latched her eyes onto the Emerald of Quinn's.

"Because everyone keeps gossiping about them in the hallways," She told her.

"The boys?"

"Tanner, Jamie, and Mike," Quinn reprimanded Rachel's insensitivity, starting up again with the tears again.

"What's it to you?" Rachel asked, raising her eyebrows in confusion.

"I was with them the night that they were killed."

Something clicked in her head, then... This could finally be it! All of the answers, who were behind all of it, who killed the three, including her idiot of a baby daddy. She could find out everything right here and now. She just needed to know the right questions to ask, to compel out of the distraught girl.

"The images are still so vivid in my head and I keep trying to forget, but every time I step out there, I'm reminded all over again." She sighed.

"When was this? Saturday morning?" she began her interrogation.

"No," she replied, holding her hands protectively over her baby. "They're not far enough in the investigation. The police still think that it happened Saturday morning, but it was really on Friday night."

"Do the police know that you were there with them?"

"No, and I'd like to keep it that way." She warned her with frightened eyes. "My parents kicked me out, so I'm all this kid has and I can't raise it from behind a cell."

"I'm not going to tell anyone," she assured her under false pretenses. "Just, start from the very beginning for me. Tell me all that you remember," she compelled her.

"My parents were yelling at me, telling me to get out. The next thing I know, I'm at the diner in town and the three of them are there." She started. "They were drunk when they called me over to the table, I should've known that. But, I didn't know anyone else in there and I didn't want to sit alone. So, I scooted in the booth next to Mike and we all got to talking."

"Were they talking about anything suspicious? Any people, names in particular?" At this rate, Rachel really could be a detective.

"No," she sighed. "They were just the way they normally were on a Friday night. Gosh, it was like I wasn't even there. Then, Jamie started flirting with me and I guess I grew flattered after a while." "Don't you dare judge me for it, either. Finn had left me in the dumps for you and the father of my child is dead.

I don't remember how we ended up in the woods so late that night. Maybe it was a dare? I'm not sure. I only remember this bad feeling around us. Like me and my baby were in danger. But, I didn't tell the others. I didn't want them to make fun of me for being a wuss."

"I kept asking when we were going to head back, bringing up my curfew. I am only seventeen, after all. They continued to tell me they'd be just a few more minutes. Then, a few more minutes grew into an hour and before I knew it, it was almost four in the morning."

"That was when _they_ showed up," she began to tremble at the memory, squeezing her eyes shut. Placing a hand on her arm, Rachel searched for more.

"Who showed up?" she asked. "Quinn, who did you see?"

"I don't know," she whimpered. "There were three guys. But, I swear, I'd never seen them before in my entire life and I know everyone in this damn town."

"What did they look like?" she pressed again.

"I-I don't remember," she seemed to be thinking really hard about this.

"You don't remember? You didn't get any eye colors, hair, height… Can you at least give me a hint at their age? Were they old, young?"

"One was old and the other two were young."

"Ages?" Rachel begged for more information.

"I don't know, maybe the older man was in his early 50's or late 40's. The two younger ones seemed to be a little older than us, but still in their teens? They wore two different colored letterman jackets, but not from our school."

"Did they have any accents?"

"American," she responded, nodding to assure herself. "Just like every other guy here. But they weren't. They moved in closer and sat with us for a little while. And then, and then…"

"And then what, Quinn?"

"They had these scary eyes… and, and before I knew it, they were throwing themselves at us." She cried.

"Eyes?" Rachel wondered. "Like these?" Rachel flashed her vampire face and Quinn nearly fainted before her.

"It was you!" she suddenly started to scream, backing away towards the furthest wall. "You killed them!" her voice started to crack. "Stay away from me! You're a monster! You're a murderer!"

"No, no, no," she closed in on the girl, trying to soothe her. "Quinn, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then, who were they? Huh?" she exclaimed. "Who were those people and why did they hurt my friends?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out. But, I need to know all that you know, all that you've seen. That's the only way I'm going to be able to help you."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," she sobbed, sliding against the wall to the floor.

"I know you don't," Rachel sunk down next to her, brushing her hand against the blonde curls in her hair. It reminded her of her mother's. "But, you need to… It's the only way."

"They killed them, Rachel." She whispered, resting her head against her shoulder. A lot of improvement had been made in the time the two girls had been in the bathroom. At first the girl was nothing more than combative and repulsive. Now, Rachel was beginning to grow a soft spot.

"What did you see?"

"After they lunged at us, I ran behind a tree and watched." She sniffed. "All three guys each grabbed one. The old one had Mike and the two young ones grabbed Jamie and Tanner. It was weird… They were kissing their necks. But then, there was blood all over the place, and they were dead."

"That's when I ran," she continued. "I thought if I could just make it into the clearing, I'd be okay. The diner was still open and we hadn't walked that far into the woods. But, he caught up to me. I don't know how, because I was some ways ahead, but he got in front of me and I was trapped."

"I tried to scream but he told me to be quiet and I couldn't make another sound, just like you did a while ago."

" _Who_ caught up to you?"

"He was one of the young ones, the taller one. Gosh, I can't remember his face for anything!" she let out, exasperated. "But-but his letterman jacket was purple and gold and he was wearing jeans and a white shirt underneath. And, he was also covered in blood, all coming from his lips."

"It was disgusting but I couldn't move, because I knew that I was next." She cried.

"What stopped him?" she asked.

"He went to go in for my neck, but then he looked at my face and stopped. He just kept staring at me and breathing heavily until one of his bloody hands touched my stomach."

"The others were coming back then," she told her. "I could hear their sickening laughs, as if they were proud of their actions. He freaked out. Before I knew it, I was on his back and we were really high up in a tree, looking down at them. They kept calling his name, but once he hadn't answered in a while, they left."

It was a long shot, considering all the things the blonde already couldn't tell her. "Do you remember his name?"

"No, he told me that I couldn't." Rachel nodded in defeat.

"But, he knew mine. He kept calling me Quinn Fabray."

"I-I think we're sort of friends, now." She proceeded to explain.

"What?" Rachel asked, stupefied.

"He told me that he would protect me and my baby, and that I didn't have to be afraid anymore. He wasn't going to hurt me."

"He comes into my room every night at Britt's and we lay together, and he kisses my forehead and rubs my back until I fall asleep. And, we have talks, I think. I call him by his name and he knows things about me."

 _Holy shit_ , Rachel thought. This was definitely some type of spell that the girl was under. Moments before, she held an entirely different perception of said guy. Now, he was her savior?

She continued, "He's always watching. I bet he's even watching now. He knows what I say to other people, laughs at the jokes I tell them, and yells at me when he doesn't think I've eaten enough food in the day. My pregnancy is really important to him, which, I have no idea why."

"But, I know things about him too. Like, he's had a really dark past and when I see him, I know what his face looks like, his favorite things, what makes him laugh, sad…" She stopped, taking in Rachel's face. "But, I can't tell any of that to you, because I forget the main parts when I don't see his face anymore. So, I'm going crazy, aren't I?"

"No," she shook her head. Just, compulsion at its finest… She wondered who this magician was, on the other end of Quinn's brain, waiting for her in her room, the ghost in her closet. Someone capable of this much must be of some type of power. Finn's kind—a Wanderer. She'd have to inform him about all of it the next time she saw him.

Damn, another wave of pain rippled through her chest thinking of the guy behind the four-lettered name.

She shook it from her head, trying to distract herself. "Quinn, you said their eyes were scary. What color were they? Did you see red or black?"

"Both had black eyes, except for the older man. But his weren't red. They were _gold_."

Gold? How could that be? There was only one alternative that she could think of.

"A Creator," Rachel whispered.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," she immediately shot down Quinn's suspicion.

Hearing how she explained the vampire in question, Rachel could only assume that the girl was safe. There were no scars present on her body, she showed up to school this morning with all of her books, as well as the other blonde, Britt. Really, the only things plaguing this girl were the memories of all that had happened over the weekend.

Having an unfamiliar touch of consideration deep down inside then, never felt before for the cheerleader standing before her, she captured her eyes again.

"Forget all of it," she whispered. "That's all that you have to do. You were not at the Diner that night, nor did you encounter those three boys. Instead, you came over to my house. You don't know why you decided on my house, but you knew that there was no other place to go."

"You got to the door, Olivia let you in, she fixed you some tea and pie, and you fell asleep on our couch. You discovered the news with the rest of us the next afternoon. They were your friends and they were killed by a mysterious animal in the forest. You cried, we comforted you, and then you moved into Brittany's guest bedroom."

She waited for a response.

"Where was _he_?" Quinn asked, confusing Rachel.

"Finn?"

"No," she harshly refused the suggestion. " _He_ told me that he would always be near, watching me, protecting me. So, where was _he_?"

Oh, right, the mystery member of the monster posse.

Crap, she thought. This guy really wired her good.

She lied, merely for the health of the baby. Maybe even out of comfort for Quinn. It was either the moment, the desperation of the girl, or just the girl in general, but Rachel's opinion was forming differently. And, she didn't know if she liked it. She didn't know if she could handle this newly developed tolerance for a Fabray.

"He was outside on the patio, watching the moon and stuff." Would she take the bait? "Now, repeat everything to me, Quinn, exactly how you remember it."

"My parents kicked me out, so I came to your house to see if Olivia would bend at my hopelessness. She offered me tea and pie, and then I fell asleep on your couch. _He_ was outside, waiting, protecting me. And, the next afternoon sitting with you guys in the living room, I found out that three of my friends had been brutally mauled by an animal in the forest, just like Puck."

"Good," Rachel was reluctant to smile; still a little unsatisfied that she couldn't get the memory of the slick bastard out of Quinn's head. However, what more harm could be done with some further poking?

"Quinn, I think it would be best if you forgot this guy. Forget everything associated with him, forget that you even met. He's no good."

"I can't," she responded as if it were as simple as breathing. "He told me that I could never forget his existence, even if someone like you were to ask me."

Well, that answers that. She sighed, taking the defeating news with a grain of salt. She nodded. He wasn't just a powerful bastard, a smart one too.

"Can I go back to class? Coach Sylvester is really sticking her neck out for me, allowing me to continue to attend practices. If I'm late, even once, she won't think twice about dropping me. And, I really need this."

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, helping the girl back up to her feet. "Just, look at me. Forget this conversation only until you're in my presence again. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Also, don't tell him a word of any of this; that you've talked to me, told me vital information. In fact, you don't know me when he asks." She continued to compel her. "But, when you're in my presence or Finn's for that matter, don't see us as an enemy, or a threat. We're you're allies now and I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

She smiled, nodding her head in acceptance, "Thank you."

Then, she was gone, leaving Rachel with a whirlwind to process and one more class period until she could go home and unwind.

Tapping her pen furiously against her notebook, the image of two teachers conversing by a nearby building out the classroom's window stole away Rachel's attention from Mr. Stanley's discussion on key points in the Civil War.

It wasn't even anything important, really. Not a hint of juicy gossip. In more ways than one, it reminded her of Will and Emma's late night pillow talk, simple and mortal. One's dog had to take an emergency trip to the animal hospital last night for accidentally ingesting a piece of chocolate, while the other was still in question of who was picking up her kids after school.

She wondered then, if this was what it was like, if this was how her life would be like if she were still a functioning human, not a blood-thirsty demon, if the complexity of her problems and worries extended only to her chocolate-consuming pet.

The final bell frightened her, sending the students around her sprinting for the door. Flipping the hardcover of her book over, she began to shove everything back into the cluttered satchel when Mr. Stanley called her name.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, approaching the man sitting at his desk.

Lowering his glasses from the bridge of his nose, he sorted through white papers scattered along the surface of his desk. "This seems to belong to you."

Taking the packet in her hand, she examined it with the same attitude she had the last time she saw it, nearly a year ago in Chicago.

 _National Honor Society_

"Awesome," she faked her enthusiasm. Of course, she made the grades. But the qualifications ran a little deeper than making an A on every test. The words "List any/all School Activities and Club Memberships below" stared up at her.

"Thank you," she smiled.

"Congratulations," he called behind her as she exited the room. Turning the corner, with the slightest flick of her wrist, the packet of papers dove into the nearest trash bin.

The weirdest course of events took place, just a few minutes later. Meeting up with Percy and Toni in the parking lot, all three made eye contact for an extended period of time. During this time, her chest ached with millions of things bubbling up to the surface, all of the questions she had saved at the back of her throat for the wellbeing of the missing Musketeer. But, nothing found its way to them. No words, no hints, just three eyes trained on each other in an attentive manner.

Then, as soon as it began, it was over. They were heading toward their side of the parking lot while she found Sam in the driver's seat of her Ferrari.

"What was that about?" he asked, throwing the car in reverse once she'd fastened her seatbelt.

"Just three people who don't know how to act without their constant." She explained as if it were easily comprehensible. He didn't ask any further questions, just turned the knob on the radio and tapped along on the steering wheel to an upbeat song.

She'd never felt more out of place than when they arrived home. The rest of the group jumped to their afternoon blood supply, while the smell revolted her to her very core. Ascending the staircase, she wondered if a good nap was what she needed to place her back on track. Moments later, she was left watching the ceiling fan make continuous laps.

 _Think, of just one thing, at least,_ her inner conscious anxiously screamed at her. But she was so fricking restless. Her concentration was nowhere ready for her to attempt homework, or to express her emotions in a heart-felt poem on a piece of notebook paper. Her piano even ceased to whisper the welcoming it had this morning.

She had to get out, was the next idea. Maybe staying cooped up in this space was what was delaying her mind. Maybe she needed to be in a place where she felt comfortable enough to actually breathe again. Grabbing her satchel and a box of colored pencils, she sprinted back down the stairs only to be stopped in the kitchen.

"You didn't eat," Santana observed as the same reserved full pouch rested over the marble of the countertops. The other four were emptied and stacked in their reserved garbage can.

"Must've forgotten," she lied to avoid the lecture on remaining inconspicuous and maintaining equality with the humans in their environment. "Really stressful day," she smiled after gulping down the cold liquid.

"You heading out?" she asked, examining her bag and the pencils.

"Uh yeah," she nodded, looking down at her things. "What better way to concentrate than in the forest?"

Of course, Santana didn't understand her connection to nature, never had. But she still remained encouraging, offering words to support her. "Might even be able to knock some homework out, huh?"

"Exactly," she said, a little breathless, as she headed for the door. "I'll see you later."

As she got to the front line of trees, a sensation of satisfaction found her, thinking of their exchange. She was getting better at living with them. And, this made her feel really good on the inside, even if she had just sold the girl a small fib. She could remember a time where something as simple as talking seemed like a big chore. As of now, her comfort rested solely in the hands of Emma and Santana. Olivia and the three guys still needed a little working on.

Sighing, she knew that first option would take a bit more of convincing.

Getting to the damaged home in the middle of the forest, she started up a fire before tossing her things on the red velvet of the sofa. Finding a spot on the floor before the fireplace, she pulled out her things, brought her knees to her chest, and lost herself with the sketchpad and pencils.

She remained oblivious to the outside world, paying no mind to daylight as it transitioned into night. Instead, the array of colors and patterns before her, which correlated perfectly together, sprung the image in her head to life.

It was a bit odd to her at first, how she could construct the image of someone so perfectly, without any hint of a name or even a face. Yet, there he was, standing before the fragile blonde, covered in blood, resting both hands against her protruding abdomen.

The height difference seemed drastic from her perspective, and maybe it weren't the case in real life, however, she had a gut-wrenching feeling that she wasn't off about the remaining features: the sharp cheekbones, the dark black hair, the thick, luscious eyebrows, the bright, mesmerizing eyes…

Blue or green still couldn't be deciphered of the eyes and she knew that she would never be able to get that information out of Quinn, but she used her assumptions to a tee. They had to be some rare, beautiful color to capture Quinn's eyes so instantaneously. Maybe a crystal clear blue or a yellow-ish type of green?

She decided to stick with green, finding the lightest shade she owned, pencil wise. She was shocked when the final image of the male appeared vaguely familiar.

 _C'mon Rachel, think…_ her subconscious encouraged.

In her head, she recovered any and all memory of dark haired strangers with piercing green eyes. Where had she seen him before? Maybe someone passing in the hallways? Sitting beside her in class? No, this was a really small town. She would have noticed.

Frustration began to crowd her brain as she tried to wrap it around the mystery that was right in front of her face. She felt undermined, humiliated even. The idea that someone was dancing around her, probably amused with the intent to make her look stupid, infuriated her to unspoken extremes.

Closing her eyes, the colored pencil in her right hand snapped with the sound of one of the various crackles radiating from the roaring fireplace.

Surrender was no longer an option, she then declared, opening her eyes again. She would not let another person make a fool out of her. She would find them, one way or another, and kill them, one by one, with two times the pain they'd inflicted upon Finn's friends.

"She was right," a voice sent her flying out of her skin. Tossing the sketchpad aside, she rose to her feet, ready to fight off any opposing attack.

The male leaning against a wall across the room only offered a slight smirk in return, dropping it entirely taking in her full appearance. Hastily sorting the hair in her face behind her ears, she took a step forward. That step immediately halted when his face transformed into concern for her.

She couldn't understand the root of it. Malnutrition, sleep deprivation, and pure anguish only touched upon the list of things her brain was signaling to her, examining his appearance. Towering over 6 feet tall, with sunken shoulders, he rested both hands in the front pocket of his sweatshirt.

"Finn," it was weird how the familiar warm feeling inside of her returned with the sound of the four-lettered word. She was unsure then if it had ever left.

Relief, that was the feeling that followed it. She felt relieved that he was back, that she was finally looking at the only person on this entire planet that could make her truly happy.

Then, her heart sank, because the look on his face, the image that he projected, made it more than obvious that he was anything but…

"Percy was right," he whispered, pushing himself off of the wall, taking agonizingly slow steps in her direction.

The little girl inside her head told her to just jump forward, ruin the giant space between them, but she ignored her, intent on making the environment as welcoming as possible for him.

"What are you talking about?" she wondered out loud, then instantly regretted it.

 _Great start, Rachel…_ that same little girl in her head pronounced. She swore she had another speech planned out in her head; constructive words that didn't make her look like an insensitive little shrew.

"You do look worse than I do."

Moving beside her, he sat on the Victorian sofa, grabbing the sketchpad from the floor before she could find the words to explain or even attempt to close it.

Guilt trailed up her throat then, watching the features on his blank face intently as he silently examined the drawing before him. Though the dark haired stranger's identity was undeniably a mystery to him, the blonde's face was more than prominent in his memory. And, this was not what he needed, finding out that his current girlfriend spent the day poking around with his ex.

"I-I uhm…" _fuck_.

"It's okay," he closed the book, standing to look down at her worried face. "You don't need to explain anything to me. I was listening."

" _You were?"_

"Rachel, do you really think that I could leave you _entirely_ alone?" he asked, finally letting some of his guard fall, brushing a hand through her unruly hair.

She followed then, letting her own guard crumble beneath her.

"I-I know that it was wrong of me to go about prodding with her brain, making promises on your behalf, especially after all the pain that she has caused you… It was just that, well, Finn, she really needs us, and I have all this new information on the case.

And, and… I needed something to distract me, because, I don't care how mediocre this is going to sound, but I can't go one day without you, let alone two."

"It's okay, Rachel," he chuckled a little, taking into account her labored breathing after rambling for so long. Then, another feeling radiated through Rachel as he pulled her into his warm and familiar embrace. _She was finally home._

"And, I really took the time to think about the things you said, Rachel… You were right to tell her the things that you did, to help her the way you did today. And, if it's really what you want, what you really think that she needs, then okay, I'm in…I will help you, help Quinn."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. Pulling away to look at him, she smiled, "really?"

" _You do all that you can for the people you love."_ He repeated Emma's words from earlier this morning.

"So, you heard all of that too, this morning?"

"All of it, and I'm never going to understand what I ever did to deserve you."

She smiled at him, overcome by the joy the relief rippling through her chest seemed to provide. "Gosh, it is so good to hear your voice, Finn Hudson."

"There's something that I want to _feel_ again," he informed her after a few seconds of silence. Bending his knees, he pressed his lips to hers, and suddenly, as if golden rays of lights surrounded them, the gates of heaven were finally sealed shut.

"Come, lie down with me," he turned to motion toward their red velveted safe haven. "We both could use the rest."

He was right about that one. The moment her head hit his chest, she could finally reach that sleep that she spent all night graveling for.

However, she didn't want to give up the bliss of this moment just yet. Taking his hand in hers, she played with his fingers until he fell sound asleep. When she tired this, she began to trace her fingers against his cheeks, lips, nose, hair, searching desperately for proof that she was not dreaming.

Not a dream, she assured herself feeling his paced breath against her hand.

His soft snores deepened her relief, advancing the idea in her head that his restlessness was escapable. Caressing the side of his face with her palm, she placed a soft kiss against his temple and whispered a few simple little nothings before falling into a slumber of her own.

"Finn Hudson, _I love you too_."

* * *

 **Finally up after months of being MIA... Enjoy! :)**


	23. Stalk Me Outta Here

**Chapter 22**

The idea was insane. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been involved in something quite as ludicrous. They were just standing there. Class remained in session, the hallways were empty, and in plain sight, they were leaning against seasonal posters decorating the egg-shell colored walls across from the entrance to the women's restroom.

He initially made a vocal proposition; even provided her time to reconsider, see the crazy in all that she was plotting. But, as he knew she would, her rejection was prominent. She was dead-set on doing this, right here and now, to hell with anyone else—including himself. So, why was he standing beside her, one may ask?

He loved her, of course. This was no new revelation.

To the ends of the earth he would crawl if it was in her request. Like a puppet on her stage, the strings to his heart were in her possession.

 _And she loved him, too._ Or, at least, that's what he'd heard earlier yesterday morning, listening in on her conversation with Emma.

His eavesdropping was unintentional. He was just lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling fan after Percy's multiple-set morning alarms sounded through the walls and interrupted his sleep.

It took a while, but his restlessness threw him off the deep end. He then decided to cease the moment, and find some productivity out of all the gloom. He was content with the idea of skipping school for the day. So, grabbing his neglected notepad from the corner of his cluttered desk, he decided to add a few more pages to his novel.

As little importance as surrounding details of the moment held to him right now, he could remember the distinctive smell of Carole's pancakes wafting in through the small crack underneath his door. Pulling a chair in front of his window, he sat, watching the spectacular snowfall while tapping the end of his pen against the paper, speculating his next literary approach.

Her voice erased all attempts.

" _I'm worried about him."_

" _I don't know the first thing about consolation, Emma. I've always been the one that needed it. And now, I'm so lost. I feel like it's important to let him breathe on his own, but I also feel like maybe I should be doing more for him."_

" _You think that I_ love _him?"_

" _I'm scared."_

" _That word has only brought a lot of death and heartbreak and destruction into my life. It's a four-lettered curse. If I ever allowed myself to unleash that on Finn, I don't think I'd ever be able to forgive myself."_

Watching her thoughtless expression now, a type of melancholy took a hold of him. He was shocked by her revelation, but more so at the fact that she never felt that she could voice these feelings to him.

"Gosh, the girl uses the restroom so much, it should be illegal. Why the hell is her bladder suddenly so freaking high and dry?" With a loud sigh, Rachel's shoulders sank in frustration.

"You haven't dated the girl. Pregnancy has nothing to do with it." Finn responded, matter-of-factly.

"Do you hear it?" she asked, circulating her finger in the air.

He nodded, because he could. All the way down the hall was a distinctive beating, accompanied by a very persistent type of fluttering. The hearts of Quinn and her baby.

"She's just sitting there." She hissed, completely exasperated. "And I checked, the teacher's lesson is nowhere close to being interesting enough."

Sliding down against the wall, she placed her elbows on her knees and ran her hands through her hair. Finn took this as an opportunity to distract her with what was running through his mind.

Lowering himself beside her, he crossed his legs Indian-style and turned his body in her direction.

"Rach, can I ask you something?" he started.

"Anything," she responded almost entirely distracted by her vexation.

"Yesterday morning, of course I heard you speaking to Emma about how you were worried about me. But, that's not all." Her eyes immediately met his out of curiosity.

He continued, terminating any opportunity she could have taken to interrupt. "I didn't realize you felt those things. And I was just wondering why you never felt that you could talk to me about it?"

Was he a hypocrite in asking her this? Considering all from their past that he could never share with her? He tried to process the possibility in his head, taking in the transformation of her expression. As her lips moved to speak, his guilt stepped up to the plate and buried the venomous reminders of his lies back into the deep dark pit of his brain's most distracting concerns.

"The same reason we are sitting here right now, desperately waiting for a girl who may not even have the information we need," she responded. This left him utterly confused.

"I'm protecting you, Finn."

"Protecting me," he scoffed, shaking his head furiously. How had all of this transpired? What had he done to lead her into believing that he needed protecting?

"That's my job," he replied in a stern voice.

"Hey!" a voice called, pulling the two from their little bubble. "Why aren't you in class?"

It took a matter of two seconds. "Forget us," Finn was telling the man, and then he was back at Rachel's side.

"We're not going to argue over this." As his voice had been stern, her voice held jurisdiction. "Today, we've got a lot to do, and no possible words from you will change my mind. Now, come here."

Suddenly, her palms were caressing the sides of his cheeks and suddenly he lost all power. He couldn't find the strength to produce any supporting words to his argument. Instead, he closed his eyes and allowed the warm feeling of _home_ to envelope him.

Another set of footsteps down the hallway interrupted the two.

"Finn?" the girl called. "And, and Rachel…" Understanding suddenly brought her features to life. He wondered, then, the depth in which Rachel had compelled the blonde.

They both rose back to their feet.

"Come inside," Rachel moved over to the bathroom door. Using one swift motion with her elbow, she held it open for the two. "We've been waiting for you, Quinn."

He noticed the hesitant glance she threw in his direction as they moved into the small space. And even though every instinct in his body rejected taking part in any of this, he knew that it wasn't his sake that rooted his concern. It was for his brunette beauty, for Mike, and for the other two guys that had become like family in the short time that he'd been there.

The road less traveled seemed to be the only good way to go. Any shot at a form of vengeance against the force behind all of these vicious attacks would definitely be a victory in his eyes.

"It's okay," he assured the blonde on her tippy toes, ready to sprint in the opposite direction. Of course, they were distant, with everything that happened during the past year. He just wasn't aware that he had this type of affect over her. "I'm good." He held up his hands in surrender.

"Are you sure? Or did she have to talk you into this?" She crossed her arms over her chest in the same sassy manner that used to get her into trouble when they were together.

 _Yes, she did have to talk me into this. In fact, I don't really even know why I'm standing here. You've done nothing but tear my heart in half. In what screwed up sense of the word do you think I_ owe _you anything?_

He shook his head at her question, thinking of all the things he really wanted to say. And it's like Rachel could read his mind. As silence overtook the three, she lowered her head to stare at her boots.

"I promise, and you know how I am with my promises." His words sparked some recognition in her.

"As long as the moon remains in the sky, you're bound to keep it." Large emerald eyes met his with a sense of hope.

He couldn't help the despair the ancient reference brought to his chest, thinking of a time in which he used the phrase very often, a time when he held this girl dear, when there wasn't a possibility of Amelia returning, when she was still "dead".

Quinn was upset. He couldn't remember exactly what it was about; all he knew was that it had something to do with Coach Sylvester.

He'd found her on the bleachers one day after one of his afternoon football practices, just staring at her fingers and wiping away the droplets maneuvering down her flawless cheeks.

" _Everything will be okay,"_ he assured her, knowing things were far from it. At this point, he was still plagued with the idea that he was settling.

" _You can't possibly know that,"_ It was always a quality of Quinn's to sob when she was anything but happy. Maybe it was a coping mechanism? He remembered her stories of how her childhood was marked with the absence of her father. Maybe she associated feelings of fear and anxiety with him leaving her as a child. Her face was becoming blue as she divulged further into her full-blown fit of hysterics.

" _You just have to trust me, babe."_

" _She's the exact devil, Finn. And I can't tell her that because I need this scholarship to get out of this God-forsaken town. But I really want to. You have no idea how much I want to."_

" _It will get better,"_ he cooed, brushing the light strands of hair from her face.

" _No, it won't. I know that it won't."_

" _I promise you that it will, Q." he whispered, pulling her close. "And you want to know something about my promises?"_

She pulled away to look up at him _, "What?"_

" _They're connected to the moon."_

She seemed confused _, "huh?"_

" _As long as the moon remains in the sky, my promises will always come true."_

And it worked. He found tranquility in the fact that he could at least make her happy, if he couldn't do the same for himself. It's what kept their relationship strong; it's what kept his heart beating, until the end, when everything hideously came tumbling down.

"You know why I'm back," Rachel began, walking closer to the girl, "why I brought him with me."

"You want information," Quinn nodded in understanding.

A questioning look from Rachel followed. Quinn continued almost instantaneously as if she knew the next words forming on Rachel's tongue.

"He was waiting for me when I got home yesterday," she began. "I remember that he was sitting on my bed, reading the textbook that I forgot to bring to school. He was quizzing me on mathematic equations that he already knew without having to look in the book."

"And then there were the questions about my baby that I thought would never end. Gosh, it was so annoying. The way he wonders about him or her makes me feel like I'll become disposable once I give birth."

"Most likely," Finn commented as Rachel elbowed him in the side. He was distracted, trying to depict a clear understanding of how this unknown suspect's mind worked.

She chose to ignore him, continuing with her story. "But, at the same time, I've never felt safer with anyone. Not even you."

 _Ouch._

A smile lit her face as she continued to think about the stranger. Finn had never seen someone so brainwashed, so much so that he questioned the assumption of her even being brainwashed.

She had to have been, right?

Once again, it seemed that Rachel's thoughts were in correlation with his.

"Did you guys talk about anything else?" Rachel wondered.

"No," she shook her head. "We just spent the rest of the evening laughing until he allowed me to fall asleep in his arms."

Finn cringed at how clichéd this sounded. He didn't care if moments spent with Rachel were probably just the same, if not worse.

"Gosh, he is so fucking beautiful, especially with the way his face looks when he's laughing." Rachel lightly squeezed Finn's arm in anticipation as Quinn was possibly about to unleash helpful information about his appearance.

"His face turns childlike when he thinks something is funny... And, his laugh… Gosh, it's like medicine. You never want to stop hearing it, so you stay on your toes, desperately trying to keep it going."

"You're smitten," Rachel observed.

"I don't have a reason not to be," Quinn gushed further. "He's everything that I've always wanted."

"Quinn, you have to know that he does bad things, okay? You can't let your guard down completely," Rachel whispered as the girl appeared to be disgustingly head-over-heels.

"You don't know the first thing about any of it," her attitude rapidly changed. Was it a hormonal issue that caused the snap or was Quinn's regular bipolar personality coming out to play? "I have cried to him about everything that's happened dozens of times already, okay? He says that he loves me so much and that he would throw himself on a wooden steak before letting anything happen to me or my baby. That much is the best type of promise I've ever received. Way better than your moon nonsense, as far as I am concerned."

"Has he mentioned our names in any of your conversations?" Finn jumped back into the conversation to take some of the heat that Quinn was projecting onto Rachel.

"No, why would he? I don't know you guys when I'm around him," Quinn replied as if she were wondering why he didn't already know that fact.

"I compelled her to forget us in his presence, remember?"

"Right," he nodded, "Good thinking."

"Wait," Quinn raised a hand over her stomach as realization slowly appeared to strike. "You speak her limbo. You're like her, aren't you? Y-you're a monster?"

Finn knew the mistake he'd made soon after he exchanged a look with Rachel.

"It's true, isn't it?" she cried. "Answer me!"

"Yes," Finn calmly replied, though the air around the three was anything but, "we're vampires."

Her face turned the closest shade to green humanly possible. "I think I need to lie down. I feel sick."

"Quinn, come here. I can help you." Rachel moved forward though the blonde stopped her suddenly with her hands.

"No, don't you come near me, either of you!" Her tone was icier than the North Pole, hinting at the severity in her warning. The following events seemed to happen in slow motion.

Rachel's stubbornness persisted, she moved forward to make an attempt at comforting the pregnant teen, and Quinn's fist met her left cheek.

No major reaction came from it. Quinn held her fist in her other hand, sobbing at the minor pain that it must have caused her. Rachel, on the other hand, remained expressionless. Holding her palm to her cheek, she only stared at the girl.

"I don't want to do this anymore," the blonde cried. "I want you both to leave me alone." On that note, she sprinted out of the bathroom.

"This is just…" Rachel scoffed. "So freaking perfect!"

"Dammit!" she screeched, putting all of her force behind her right arm. In an instant, the shattering of glass sounded as Rachel drove her fist into one of the three mirrors hanging in the women's restroom. Blood trickled into the white bowl of the sink as she furiously picked the glass out of her knuckles.

Ripping a piece off of his flannel sleeve, he moved hesitantly towards her. Slowly, he picked up her hand and assessed the damage. Though he knew the wound would heel within in a matter of seconds, he still wanted to make some attempt at relieving whatever pain was present.

As he wrapped the cloth around her hand with two tight knots, he noticed the tears as they began to trickle down her cheeks.

"Hey," he cooed as he slowly wiped one away.

"I had a plan," she met his eyes.

"And it was a good plan, Rachel," Finn assured her. "Quinn is just…"

"The key," Rachel closed her eyes and shook her head. "As crazy as it may sound, she was the only key at solving all of this mess. And now…"

"She'll come around," Finn knew the girl. She was just having one of her many episodes. How could she be blamed? She'd just found out a large bit of information, probably too much for her brain to handle at the moment.

"We need to figure something else out." She raised her bloody hand to wipe away another tear.

"First, let's get you cleaned up, why don't we?" Finn asked, turning the knob to the tap. As the cold water began to pour, Rachel seemed more drawn into her mind. Wetting a brown paper towel, he wiped the red away as he examined her face.

"It's just something that you don't say," she began, as if reprimanding herself.

"What are you talking about?"

"I am strong. After everything that I've been through, I've made it here, this far. To you, and to all of this." She continued to ramble as he wiped. Untying the, now bloody, cloth from her knuckle, he wrapped a paper towel around it and tossed it in the large trash can.

She took him off guard when she grabbed his wrists. Looking down into her eyes, she seemed to be at a loss of words. Once they returned to her, she only closed her eyes. "But…"

"Finn, I'm scared."

His heart dropped beneath his toes. What could he do to make her feel better? How could he get her back to the happy, beautiful girl he once knew? How could he bring that astonishing, jaw-dropping smile back to her face in a moment like this?

"Rach," he began, trying to find only the absolute perfect words to offer.

"Everything is happening too quickly. Four people are already dead. What's to stop them from targeting us next?"

"You know that I would never let that happen. Remember what I said to you, that day in the woods after we found out about Puck? I told you that no matter what happened, I would not let any of this change the way that we are now."

"It already has, Finn. Can't you see that?" she exclaimed. "I missed a whole day with you because of them!"

Silence followed. He'd distanced himself, that was something that he really regretted.

"They've already targeted you by taking away your close friends. They've got Quinn by the foot, and it's only a matter of time before they kill her and an innocent newborn baby."

"Then we can go somewhere else, Rachel. Paris, Rome, anywhere in the world, if that's what it takes. You name it. I will not allow anyone to ever take you away from me again."

Rachel's face dropped, "Again?"

 _Shit._ He gave too much away.

"I-I had a bad dream a couple of nights ago. A group of people took you away from me. It was horrible, and- and I woke up screaming." He sighed with relief. That was a very close call. He made a mental note to watch his words from now on.

"Vampires are mobile, Finn." she shook her head, dispelling his suggestion. "We'd just be running for the rest of our lives."

Nothing new. Wasn't that what he was doing with Percy and Toni?

The _stalker…_ He hadn't thought of the name for ages. Of course, he had no idea who this vampire was. All he knew was that he was the reason they'd found their way into the Americas. A little over a few centuries ago, the three found a way to piss off a random vampire and he'd been after them ever since.

He remembered how Camilia mentioned him on that fateful night back in the apothecary, the same night that he lost Amelia. But, shouldn't he have forgotten or been killed since then?

Now… Wow, he couldn't believe it hadn't occurred to him sooner. The man in the road, that same night he got into that horrible accident and completely demolished his Porsche. The man standing in the dead center, waiting for him to make the curve, waiting in his black fancy suit…

"Rach, I have to go."

"What?" she asked, confusion beginning to seep into her features.

"Look, I promise everything is going to be okay." He placed a light kiss to her forehead. "There's something that I need to go do."

"Where are you going?" she worried.

"Just, get back to class, okay? I will meet you back at our house later this afternoon and explain everything."

He was a bit surprised at her surrender. As she nodded, he placed another kiss to her forehead. "I love you."

She nodded again and with a wisp of air, he was gone.

As he waited outside of Mr. Simon's health class, his ears sorted through the large array of whispers going on towards the back of the classroom.

" _So, did you want to come over this weekend? My parents are going on a cruise and I'll have the place to myself."_ One guy asked.

" _Sure, but can you buy the condoms? I'd have no place to hide them."_ A girl with an extremely high voice responded.

Teenagers…He scoffed as he shook his head.

After a little further sifting, he found the voice he was looking for.

" _That all depends on you, precious."_ She seemed to be talking to another girl on the side of her. _"You give me the money; I get you the cigarettes you want. You give me nothing, you get nada."_

"Percy," he called out. Her halt in conversation hinted that she'd heard him loud and clear.

"Hold on, one sec." he assumed that she was speaking to the girl on the side of her. He could only assume since he was talking to her through a wall.

"What do you want?" she hissed under her breath. "If you can't tell, I'm busy making sales."

"You need to grab your things and find a way to get out."

"What? Why?"

"I need to speak with you and Toni," he informed her.

"This can't wait until tonight?" her attention seemed to drift for a second. "Hey, what the hell are you staring at, board shorts?"

He could only smile at her remark to another classmate. "It's really important, Perc."

"Okay, one sec."

Before long, the blonde waltzed out of the classroom in her tall black heels as if she owned the place.

"If Carole asks about this, you're responsible. She's still not over the little situation from last week. Don't even get me started with Mike."

"You stole their car to buy weed across town."

"Okay, _borrowed_ is the correct term to use, Finnegan. I _borrowed_ her car to buy weed across town. Do you hear the difference?"

"Whatever, let's just go get Toni," he rolled his eyes as they zoomed down the hall.

"Where's Rachel?" she looked around. He had to admit, it was a bit strange not having his partner in crime at his side. But, he had to do this on his own. He didn't want to worry her any further until he could find validity in his theory.

"She's back in class," he whispered. They'd yet to make the connection that she was a vampire as well. He knew that if Percy and Toni were to find out, they'd also make the connection that she was, in fact, Amelia and that he'd been lying to them. Still, he didn't want Rachel to hear any of this. The less she knew the better. "I didn't want her involved."

"But, she knows about everything else, right?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"So, she knows who we are?"

"Every last bit," he couldn't help but smile at her reaction. "And, no, she didn't run."

"Good," she began to skip. "Now let's go get Tonionioni." He laughed at her nickname for their third musketeer.

"You know, sometimes you are just too much…" he chuckled.

"Would you have me any other way?" she asked.

"Probably not," Any type of contemplation that he could attempt to perform in his head would be inadequate. He knew that he wouldn't.

It didn't take long before all three of them were back in the small confined space that they called their home. Lucky for them, Mike had been out late last night with his friends. As of now, he was sleeping off a pretty nasty hangover with the door to his room closed shut.

"So, what's this about?" Percy finally asked as she maneuvered around the kitchen. He could not see how she could choose a time like this to make blueberry muffins. Yet, that's exactly what she was doing. Toni only sat silently, studying his fingers closely.

"Yeah, there must be a valid reason for missing my Spanish quiz."

"The stalker," he slowly presented the name as if it were biohazardous. Maybe it was. But, there was no real way to tell. They'd always fled before the man got too close. "Do you guys ever wonder where he is?"

"How could we not?" Toni raised his eyebrows at the topic.

"We've only been running for how many centuries now?" Percy sarcastically remarked. "What's it to you, anyway?"

"You think he's back, don't you?" Toni slowly rose from his seat. In the same time,Percy moved from around the counter to be closer to the two. "You think he found us here?"

"Do you?" Finn wondered, standing with the two. He studied their changing expressions.

"I've been considering it. But, I didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure." Percy watched with horror.

"The attacks," her mouth fell. "Shit, how could I have not made that connection?"

"Don't worry," Finn placed his hand to her shoulder. "I just made it moments before. That's why I pulled you guys out of class. See, I never wanted to tell you guys this because I didn't even know what to make of it, but it is all starting to make way more sense now."

"What are you talking about, Finn?" Percy's eyes were now a light shade of hazel, a rare phenomenon which only occurred when she was terrified or she knew that her life was in danger. Both he and Toni knew from a very early time that if they ever saw this color in her eyes, their best bet would be to run.

"That night, earlier in the year, when I wrecked my Porsche…It wasn't because I lost control of the wheel." "It was really dark out, so I'm a little hazy on my memory. But, when I made one of the curbs on that road in the woods, there was a man standing in my way."

Toni furrowed his eyebrows, "A man?"

"I didn't get a good look at his face. But, I knew that something was weird. It's like he was waiting for me or something. And, he was wearing this fancy suit. I don't know if I hit him or not. But, when I was pulled out of the car, he wasn't there anymore."

"Wait, you were pulled out of the car?" Percy asked.

"Maybe he pulled you out." Toni suggested.

"No," he shook his head. It was Rachel; he knew this for a fact. He would never forget that night. It was the first time she referred to him as her friend. How far they'd come in so little time.

"I wasn't supposed to tell anyone this, but Quinn…"

"What about Ms. Priss?" Percy placed her hands on her hips.

"She was there when Mike and the others were killed. Rachel and I have been in communication with her. She's got a lot of information. And there's one still hanging around her."

"One? What do you mean by that?" Percy asked.

"You mean to tell me that there's multiple vampires?" Toni demanded.

"She told us that there were three that night. Two with black eyes, and one with gold."

"Dammit, Finn! How could you have kept this from us?"

"I only found out yesterday," he held up his hands in protest. "This guy, he's experimenting with Quinn. Poking around her brain, no doubt testing all that she knows. He's got some delusion set in her that she's falling in love with him. Better yet, she just happens to have no recollection of anything about him when we ask her."

"So, he's a smart vampire." Percy noted, shaking her head. "And another Prince Charming. Great, that's exactly what we need to deal with right now."

"We need to figure out a plan." Toni stepped forward with initiative.

"Yeah," Percy scoffed, "Here's the plan. We need to get the hell out of here. Do you guys remember the last time that monster came too close to us? Because I do, okay? We almost lost you, Toni."

Finn looked away, trying hard to fight off the anger rising in his chest. He knew it was wrong to feel this way toward his "sister", especially in a time when they needed to stick together. However, his levels of frustration rose as she suggested the only thing she ever really knew how to do, running.

He couldn't afford to think like that anymore and he despised her for even bringing it up. There was too much at stake. He didn't have anyone else's safety to consider during their last confrontation in Nebraska. Now, well, the blonde knew that he had to think about Rachel. The same way she knew that he had to think about Amelia all those years ago.

He couldn't believe they were here again. Was it idiotic to assume that she would address the situation differently? No, Rachel wasn't a situation. She was his necessity.

His chest grew heavy as he anticipated all that he knew she would say if he even brought up the brunette. Even if she was slowly coming around to the idea of them, to Percy, Rachel was nothing more than a disposable human girl, nothing worth risking her life over.

Maybe if he told her about Rachel's actual identity, about whom she really was…

No, that wasn't his secret to tell.

"It's different this time," he finally offered. "We need to stay."

"What do you mean?" Toni asked.

"Don't you do this, Finn," Percy whispered, confirming everything he'd been speculating, "not again."

"Aren't you guys tired of running all of the time?"

"Not if it's what keeps us alive," Percy paced back over to the oven in a desperate attempt to eject herself from the conversation.

"What if we could finally put all of it to an end? Wouldn't you want that?" Finn followed behind her. Once again, Toni became the mediator.

"Of course I would want that, Finn. I would love that. But, why don't we be real for a minute? That's not the reason you're pushing this. That's not why you're willing to stay."

"We've been over this, Percy. Remember that day in my room? You told me that you were okay."

Anger was beginning to seep through her jaded composure. "Yeah, because I didn't realize our lives were in danger!"

"Who said they are?" he threw his hands up in protest.

"You just did, if you're suggesting that he's back!"

She continued, "Look, I understand, okay? You love her. And, that's great, but this isn't the 1800's anymore where we can dodge angry crowds with torches and weak guns. There's an entire potential army forming on his side if your information is correct."

"I don't care about any of that."

"No, all you care about is her. Which, if I must say, is entirely idiotic of you. You know that she's not who he is after. She'll be perfectly fine. He won't lay a hand on her if he has us to chase. Plus, she has her family. She'll move on. And, so will you. This is who we are, Finn."

"Okay, so you're not going to miss Carole? Or even leave her with some type of explanation?" Finn crossed his arms.

"Didn't I just tell you, Finn? They're going to be okay!"

He shook his head.

"Do what you please. I'm not leaving."

The muffins were burnt by this point.

Placing her face in her hands, she sighed. "Gosh, why must you make this so fucking difficult?"

"Because you're being a coward, Percy, like you always are!"

"I'm being reasonable, Finnegan!"

"Guys, you're going to wake up Mike." Toni whispered, standing in the corner with brooding eyes. He hated when the two fought, but he was never one to interject unless completely necessary.

"You're coming with us."

"I'm staying."

"No, you're not."

"Yes! I am!"

"NO YOU ARE NOT."

"I'm sorry; I must have missed the part where you're my mother." Finn crossed his arms. Their faces were an inch apart.

"Might as well be, we both know you wouldn't be here today if it weren't for me!"

"Okay, that's enough." Toni moved closer to them. "The two of you are acting like young children."

"Tell him that." There was no breaking eye contact. Fired orbs of hazel were all that he could see.

"I'm not leaving anything to chance anymore," Finn whispered.

"Oh, you're not leaving anything to chance, huh? How effective do you think that is?"

He could see the fire building up, yet his anger was prohibiting him from exiting the damage to be done. He huffed and puffed, waiting for words that could potentially ruin the composure he'd been working at for decades.

"Perc," Toni seemed to be aware of the downward spiral this conversation was leading into as well.

"No," Percy held up a finger in Toni's direction. "You heard him. He's not leaving anything to chance."

"But, wasn't that the reasoning last time, when you dragged us back into that burning town and nearly got us all killed, to save Amelia?"

"I didn't force you to do anything. You came by your own will," he spat.

"And how did that work out? Because if my memory serves me correctly, Amelia is still dead."

With that, he fell back a couple of steps. It took a matter of five seconds to recover from the blow. Pushing past her, he grabbed his jacket from the stool he'd been sitting on before all of this, and made his way for the door.

"Finn!" Toni called behind him.

"Don't follow me," he snarled.

 _80, 90, 100…_ Each curb the Mercedes took, the number on the speedometer seemed to increase drastically. With no seatbelt on, he sort of hoped to lose control. Maybe an accident was what he needed. Nothing else seemed to be able to distract him properly.

Not even thoughts of her could weaken his fury. When the brunette popped into his mind, he was only reminded of his troubling final moments with the love of his life all those years ago and all that had been said moments before. He'd be reminded of the insinuation that Amelia's abduction was his fault. As he reached 110 miles per hour, he was greeted with sirens and flashing blue lights.

"Fuck," he banged his hand so hard against the steering wheel, the horn sounded. Coming to a complete stop, he watched the policeman make his way around the car. Rolling down the tinted window, Finn was surprised as he didn't recognize the man.

Instead of the usual old men on patrol, this was a very young male, maybe in his early twenties.

"Hello, officer."

"Do you have any idea how fast you were going in these curves, Hudson?" So, he knew his name. He wondered how that was.

"It must have slipped my mind, "he shrugged.

"License and registration, please."

"Didn't you just call me by my name?"

He repeated himself.

After the man ran everything through the system, he returned with the handcuffs removed from his belt. "I'm going to have to take you in."

"No," Finn shook his head. Undoing his seatbelt, he opened the door and looked down at the man as his height allowed him to tower over him. "What you're going to have to do is forget all about this. You're going to erase all traces of this encounter, and you're going to travel to the other side of town to investigate crimes that actually matter, like the rise in narcotics."

"Understood," the guy nodded before returning to his car.

"Thanks, and have a great day."

When he got to the house, she was waiting on the battered porch. With her satchel placed on one of the broken boards, she seemed fixed on what appeared to be her sketchpad. The moment he shut the car door behind him, she stood and sprinted to close the distance between them.

"Hey," she whispered, burying her head into his chest.

"Hey," he sighed with relief.

"I was beginning to worry."

"I got a little, uh, caught up. I apologize."

He could only distract her for so long. He knew that she needed answers.

"C'mon, let's get a fire going inside. It's getting colder out here."

As he gathered the wood into the fireplace, he could tell that she was assessing his behavior. He probably appeared more distant than he realized.

How he wished he could snap out of it. She didn't deserve to see him like this.

She took him off guard by sneaking up behind him, running both arms across his chest. Her sweet smell was enough to send him over the deep end. "Hey," She got his attention instantaneously. He turned to look at her. And, there was no medicine that could cure better than the sight of her smile, no matter how small it was. "Are you going to tell me what happened today?"

"Rach…"

"Finn," she pushed. "You promised that you would tell me once you got here. It's obviously something bad, since you look like this. C'mon, you're starting to scare me."

"It's just-it's a lot. And there's so much that you don't know. So much that I need to tell you." "Shit, Rachel, I need to start with telling you _the whole truth, about everything_."

"Well, it's about damn time."

"What?"

Her confusion only grew, as did his. "Finn, I didn't say anything."

Just in time, as they both rose and examined the room around them, the pale face of a brunette woman met the two.

"Of course you didn't, dear. That would defeat the purpose of my dramatic entrance."

Dressed in a tight black sheath dress, the sound of heels plagued the room as she performed her famous stalking forward in their direction.

"Camilia," Finn whispered in absolute horror.

"Well hello to you, Finnegan," she smiled as she found her way in front of them. "It's nice to see you again."

His heart was racing. How was he going to get through this? This wasn't the time… He needed to sit Rachel down and tell her everything else before he could explain all of this.

"And Rachel, you look radiant. Time has truly suited your timeless figure. Loving the new look, by the way."

"Gosh, Cami, where have you been? I've been thinking of you for ages. I figured you'd…"

 _What?_ No words could process in his head as he watched Rachel throw herself into the arms of the woman who betrayed the both of them all of those years ago.

"Nope, still here." She smiled at the girl who she once wanted dead. Maybe still does… He was completely thrown. Could all of this really be happening right now?

He stumbled, "Y-you guys know each other?"

"Well, of course." Camilia smiled at him, most likely some charade.

"Where do you think I got all of my alcohol from during the prohibition?" Rachel asked sarcastically with an arm draped behind the girl's back. "This girl was a tiger back in her day." His stomach tightened as he watched the disgusting exchange of giggles. If only Rachel knew…

"You know, you weren't so bad yourself, Berry. You helped catch me a lot of meals, if I do remember correctly."

"Yeah, well," Rachel lowered her shoulders as if embarrassed. "I'm not like that anymore. I have a healthy diet of just blood bags."

"Oh darling, no one's judging you. If anything, I'm jealous of your restraint." She winked.

"I missed you so much, Cami." Rachel threw her arms around the girl again.

Once Rachel's back was to Finn, Camilia gained full viewing access. In an instant, his assumptions were proven correct.

The smile on her lips turned into a feverish smirk. Her eyes bore straight through his soul as she spoke.

"I've miss you too." "More than you'll ever know."

Camilia gave him a wink from behind Rachel's back, then a single air kiss, followed by the mouthing of the words "I love you".

Pulling away, Rachel smiled at the girl and dragged her to the couch for an afternoon filled with catching up. An infamous afternoon that would forever be recognized in his head as the beginning of a new form of hell.

He sighed again.

Oh, the damage he already created in returning to this town.

He wondered what else awaited him.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he should have taken Percy up on her offer to run.


	24. Drowning In All Of Your Lies

**Chapter 23**

They were there for hours, chatting. Who knew that Rachel would ever be face to face with this long lost doll again?

So many things had changed. There was no ignoring the fact. For one, the roles between them were reversed.

They always kept a fine line, between riches and rags. In the beginning of the 20th century, Cami never wanted to give herself fully away. As they savagely rampaged through the east coast, she preferred clothing of the average expense. Rachel, on the other hand, held no concerns. Every shindig they'd crash, she'd wear only the most lavish of designs. Satins, golds, diamonds—you name it. Every earthly possession was hers for the taking.

She always took full advantage of her extravagant life, care-free and never feeling a trace of guilt or remorse for her horrific actions. Not when there were no emotions present for her to spare.

Now, as Rachel lounged back in her jeans and boots, everything about the girl perched aside of her screamed _money._ Calvin Klein sewed together the tight black dress hugging her petite figure, while Christian Louboutin designed the tall black heels rejoicing her every step. To top things off, only the whitest of pearl necklacing was situated around her neck by what appeared to be Tiffany  & Co.

There were other things that had changed, too. And seemingly, they were related to the turning of the new century. Her eyebrows, for example, were fuller, sharper, like those of an actress you'd see in some action-filled movie. Nowhere were they even close in comparison to the slim and straight lines they'd spend hours in the mirror creating with cheap tubes of dark eyeliner.

Her hair was a different story. Back in their day, wigs were all the rage. Always short in length, her hair changed to a different color each week. With this, Rachel was never given the opportunity to see Cami's natural locks. She'd assumed that maybe she was bald underneath. Now, as they sat face-to-face, deep brown waves, matching Rachel's, fell perfectly just below the small of her back.

The only thing that remained the same was the fierce type of green blazing behind this girl's eyes. Just like the sound of a song or the whiff of a certain smell in the air, every time Rachel met the girl's cat-like orbs, she was tossed back into the whirlwind of their past.

The image of that same red table towards the far back corner of the poorly lit club suddenly resurfaced in her mind. Comfort was usually less than what they received, rocking back and forth on those un-sturdy wooden chairs. Yet, the seating arrangements were not the reason that they'd attend. It was the food that always drew them in. And, the music…

Her ears were suddenly overcome by the distinctive sound of the same roaring jazz that stole her heart. Accompanying this was the chilling raspy sound in the voice of Louis Armstrong, standing center stage while springing people to their feet.

Every single night seemed to grow younger as more and more people flooded into these forbidden spaces. The sweet and sour perfume of blood, combined with the scent of illegal booze, filled the smoky atmosphere. As she sat now, if she listened very closely, she was still haunted by the many different voices and laughter of the ghosts, spent in their final moments with the people that they loved.

In coming hours, they would, one-by-one, be tragically eliminated. She and Cami prioritized the foundation behind hunting their victims out in the parking lot. As it was very dark, many struggled to find their automobiles. This was their period of opportunity if they'd missed out inside the walls of the club. Shrilling screams were the last thing that she could remember, as they played cat and mouse all into the early hours of morning time.

Some, they would save, eventually taking them home for more toying time. Others wouldn't even make it past the back exiting doors.

Chicago was a very busy city back in the 1920's. But to the two girls, it was nothing more than a large playground.

As Cami continued to gush to the two about recent decades in her thick Italian accent, a wave of envy hit Rachel. She hated the fact that she was feeling this way. But how could she not? Though she had changed and didn't agree with the brunette's dieting habits, she took note of the many adventures the girl couldn't help but mention. Late summer nights strolling down the streets of Paris, afternoons spent running through the jungles of the Amazon, trekking Machu Picchu…

"How do you even have time to breathe?" She was so deeply infatuated to the point where her chin rested upon her knuckles.

"Well, that's the beauty of it all, darling. I'm dead, so technically I don't have to." She giggled. "But I will say, I've always had a soft spot for this portion of the States. Always so cozy and rarely having to hide from the sun. You must love being up here."

"We do!" Rachel rose from her seat in a jolt of excitement, zooming over to Finn's side across the room. All this time, she'd found it odd that he was being distant. She was just too distracted by the girl's stories to bring his behavior into the light. Wrapping her arm around his, she yanked him back to where they were sitting. It was her turn to brag. "Oh, Finn… Why don't we tell her about the trees, and the falls, and all of the different trails that we go on? Some people like to complain about all of the rain and the cold, but I really like it. If we didn't have our daylight rings, I don't think there would be a better place to blend in."

"Yes, what she said." He nodded, staring at the tips of his fingers. "It's really nice."

"I bet," Cami commented. "The two of you have quite the nice little setup in this place, I must say. I absolutely adore this little red sofa."

"This used to be my home." Rachel had never opened up about her past to the girl. They were good friends, of course. They just weren't close enough."Luckily, it survived throughout the years."

"That's very fortunate. I happen to know that Finn enjoys all things antique."

A look was exchanged between the two, one that Rachel couldn't quite put her finger on. In the moment, her conscience instructed her to let it all go, but it happened earlier too, when the girl first found them by the fire. They had greeted each other, she remembered. He called her Camilia.

"Do the two of you know each other?"

"For a long time, actually," Cami grinned, reaching across her to place a hand on Finn's knee. She turned to watch his face. He offered her a faint smile in return. "Antonio and I were very close childhood friends, so of course Finn and I have become acquainted over the years."

 _Just like you, Rachel, to assume the worst in things,_ she thought. A sigh of relief followed with a giggle. "I bet Percy hates you. She and Toni are like soulmates. They just don't know it yet."

"Rachel," Finn nudged her arm. She looked to him, expecting to see the slightest hint of that same smile. The two had always joked about Percy and Toni in their times of conversation.

Instead, there was nothing. He curled back in his seat, hinting at discomfort.

It was then that she realized that she was wrong. Something was definitely out of place.

Maybe it was what she had just said. Those were basically his siblings and it wasn't her place to cross that line. She didn't know why it was, that she even had the outburst. Having Cami back just did a number on her excitement. And she wanted to share this excitement with him. She thought she'd never see this girl again.

"I'm sorry," she reached for his arm. "I shouldn't have said anything. I just find it so amazing that we all know each other." He offered her another faint smile before reaching for her hand.

"Look at it this way," Cami began. "We're all dead, so that sort of puts us all in the VIP section. All vampires are bound to cross paths at some point."

"I never thought of it like that," Rachel smiled.

"Gee, Finn, it's been so long. What year was it that we first met? I'm trying to think. Maybe it was around…around 1863? Yes, that was it. We met in 1863." She began to giggle. "I don't think I'll ever be able to forget about that night in the abandoned apothecary with the rest of 'em."

She felt Finn tense in his seat.

"Are you okay?" Rachel whispered, noticing his change in behavior again. Rubbing circles against his back, she hoped to soothe him a bit.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I just think it's getting pretty late. Maybe we should head back."

She hadn't even noticed the time. Looking down at the watch on his wrist, the hands told her that it was just a few minutes after ten.

Still, she had so much more to talk about.

"Oh c'mon, we've stayed out later than this. What's one more hour?" she nudged him.

"I think he's right." Cami chimed in on his behalf. "I wouldn't want to be the cause of anyone getting into trouble around here, now would I?"

"Okay," Rachel sighed with disappointment as they all rose. "Please tell me that you have a place to stay."

"Of course," Cami nodded. "I promised Cecilia a visit."

Rachel assumed that she was talking to Finn. The name didn't ring any bells.

"Cecilia's in town?" Finn suddenly livened up.

"On the edges, actually," she informed him. "She goes by Cece now."

He nodded, and then turned back to Rachel, "I'll go get the car started. Don't forget your jacket."

As Finn made his way out to the Mercedes, Cami took Rachel off-guard as she was gathering her jacket from a brand new coat rack. Since they'd found a safe haven in this place, Finn had been surprising her by adding new furniture every now and then. This was one of his many accommodations to the broken room.

When she grabbed her arm, Rachel could only look up into the cat-like green eyes of the girl.

"I never got to answer you," Cami told her.

"Answer what?" Rachel asked, still nursing back from the sudden start.

"You were talking about Toni, and how Percy would be mad at me if I were to move in on him." She reminded her.

"Yeah," Rachel nodded. She remembered.

"Well, the truth is that I have my sights on someone else."

"Seriously? How could you wait to tell me this until now? We have so much more to talk about!"

"No," she chuckled while shaking her head, placing both hands on Rachel's shoulders, "there's not a whole lot to say. Someone took him from me."

"Oh, Cami, that's horrible. Are you okay?"

"I will be," she assured her. "She just needs to know that I'm not going to go down without a fight."

"You're right," Rachel nodded in agreement. "And, once she does, you know that she will not stand a chance."

Following this, the horn of a car sounded through the foggy late night air. Rachel's head whipped to the side in shock. What had gotten into Finn within the past few hours? He was acting nothing like himself.

"I'm really sorry, Cami. I have to go." She said as she opened the front door and began to make her way down the first few steps of the porch. "But, look my number up in the phone book and call me. It's going to be under William Schuester."

"Definitely!" the horn sounded again, "until next time."

"Until next time!" Rachel called as she sprinted towards the car waiting at the beginning of a trail of gravel. She could not believe that he was being this way.

The ride back was disturbingly silent. All that could be heard was a classical piece by Claude Debussy playing over the sound system. As Finn sped through each and every curb, he avoided her at all costs. This left only her thoughts and the blurred nothingness outside of her window as valid options to take up her attention.

Once the car came to a complete stop, she realized that they were in the driveway at his house. Instead of removing the key from the ignition, he allowed the engine to just hum.

"I thought you were dropping me off at my house." She whispered. She didn't understand what kind of mood he was in. So, not wanting to cause a hideous argument, she tried to keep her focus on the bright moon above.

"I changed my mind," he responded, finally turning towards her. Meeting his eyes, the dark amber setting that she loved so much seemed a dreary shade, as if he were fighting a strenuous war in his head. "Stay with me tonight."

"Carole, and Will, and Emma… Finn, I don't even have clothes. And, we have school tomorrow." Why was she fighting him? Glancing at the time, it was getting closer to eleven.

"They're all asleep, your bag is in the backseat of my car from earlier today, and you can borrow from Percy. She won't mind."

"Finn," she started. She felt like she was walking on a bed of nails. One misstep and that would be it. She really didn't want to upset him by verbally addressing her suspicions. But, now, as they sat alone in quiet darkness, it seemed to be the perfect opportunity. She really wanted to get to the bottom of it all. "I'm really sorry if what I said upset you, earlier. Are you still mad at me?"

"Mad? Why would I be mad at you, Rachel?"

"You've been distant all night," She sighed. "We were talking like normal, and then Cami—"something clicked, "wait, is it her? Do you not like Cami? Is that why you've been like this?"

Nothing.

She shook her head. "You know, I knew that there was something off."

"You don't understand, okay?" he turned in her direction. "There is so much that you don't know."

"You told me that before. I just don't understand what you're talking about. What is there for me to know?" She didn't mean to raise her voice at him. Still, the feeling in her chest rooted back to earlier today when he left her in the women's restroom. She was growing agitated by all of his vagueness.

"Camilia is not a good person, okay Rachel? She's done really bad things and it would be best for the both of us if she were avoided."

"What? What are you talking about, Finn? Are you crazy? Of course she's a good person. She's my friend. And didn't she say that she was yours, too?" Rachel offered in defense.

"She lied to you."

"She wouldn't do that." She shook her head furiously.

What was he saying? She lived with this girl for five years. She trusted this girl. Her present frustration with everything that he was suggesting sprung tears to her eyes. So much so, that a lump formed in the back of her throat.

It wasn't fair. He couldn't just act like he had all night and then feel the right to suggest something like this to her. He obviously didn't know her friend the way she did.

"Rachel, look at me." He sighed. It took every strand of pride within her, but once she finally faced him, she noticed that his expression changed. He looked defeated. "I was supposed to sit you down and tell you all of this before she interrupted." He continued, "She lied straight to your face. She said that we met in 1863. That's not true. It was around the beginning of the 18th century in 1708 when I met her. She was Antonio's friend, but that's not it. Look, you know her too, alright? And, I'm not talking about from when you said you knew each other..."

He continued to talk, but she couldn't pay him anymore attention. Not when there was the tall and dark figure of a man standing just a little ways ahead of the parked car.

The first thing she noticed was that she couldn't see his face. Why the hell could she not see his face? All she could see was his silhouette out there, watching them, waiting… For what? She couldn't quite comprehend.

He was older, she could tell that much by the build of his body. Standing as still as ever, the small street light provided her a glance at what he was wearing. He was dressed to the nines. There was a black suit and a tie…

Where had she heard that before? It was on the tip of her memory.

"…1863…she…us…I made you…forget…"

As certain words from Finn floated in one ear and out the other, she noticed the motion as soon as it began.

He was walking towards them!

Her heart dropped to her toes. Her legs turned to jelly.

"Finn!" she began to scream. Pushing all of the air from her lungs, she continued. "Finn, Finn, Finn!" He looked at her with horror as she continued to pound on his arm and point, "right in front of you!"

"Fuck!" he shouted once he noticed that the man was a foot away from his window. Locking the doors, the tires screeched as he threw the Mercedes into reverse.

It took them five minutes to get to the town square with his speedy driving. Once they arrived, Finn parked in one of the many vacant lots, double checking the status of the locks on the doors.

Looking around, Rachel's nonexistent heart pounded mercilessly. Since it was getting later, the fog appeared to be thickening. In lay terminology, just about anything could be hiding in plain sight.

She turned back to Finn to see if he could give her any answers as to what just happened. This was the moment she noticed that they were in two opposite states of mind. She was a frantic mess, while he remained calm, staring into his rearview mirror.

"Who was that?" she cried, raising her knees up to her chest while running a hand through her hair. She had no idea that vampires could feel nausea this intently. Not having a stomach and all…

He didn't respond right away.

Still, comprehension could be detected on his end. Illuminated by a single street light and the green of the controls on the dashboard, she watched as the same inner battle from before resurfaced in his head.

Dammit, her grip was already tight enough on the handle beside her. He knew something, and she needed him to spill.

"Finn, please," she begged in a high-pitched voice. "What do you know?"

She was finished with his discretion for her sake. One more lie and she'd lose all of her marbles.

"The Porsche," he whispered, finally exiting whatever trance had taken ahold of him.

She didn't question him, though she had no idea where he was going with this. Persevering through the different levels of disarray in her mind, she held her tongue and allowed him to continue.

"That night in the woods, when I left that party, the wreck…Before you pulled me out, I was making a turn and-" She remembered!

"There was a man waiting for you in the curb!" How could she forget? It was late and he was lying in their guest room. It was the first night that she willingly opened up to the idea of being his friend.

"I remembered it in the bathroom this morning. That's why I left so abruptly. I had to go find Percy and Toni."

"What's it to them? I thought you only told me." Rachel wondered.

"Initially, yes." He sighed, "But, unfortunately, that's not all there is to this."

"What do you mean?" She could slowly feel the fear amplify in her chest.

"Do you remember moments ago, when we were talking about Cami in the driveway? I told you that I met her in 1708, instead of 1863."

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?" She was on the edge of her butt-warming seat.

He started to ramble to himself, in such a low voice that she would not have heard if the radio had been playing. "I didn't think he would make it all the way to Carole's house. I thought that the stunt in the woods was a one-time thing. He usually takes months before another response is carried out. He's getting braver."

"Do you know who this person is?"

"Yes…but, no." She watched as he placed his head in his palms. "If my theory is correct, then maybe…"

A single marble falling to the ground sounded in her ears, watching him contemplate his wording. _Don't lie to me, Finn. Please… Don't lie to me._

"We've been running," he started.

"Running?" her breath sped up. "Running from what?"

"More like who…" he looked to the steering wheel. "We're not exactly sure when all of this started. It was maybe a century or two after I was turned. I mean, if you ask Percy she may be able to give you a more specific time frame. All I remember is that one day, while we were traveling the streets somewhere in Berlin, Percy pissed off a group of men."

"What did she do?" Rachel asked, trying to regain some form of control on her nerves. It was either that, or she really wanted to distract herself from her present thoughts and surroundings.

"They were immigrants, selling what looked to be fake jewelry. Percy placed a bet with us that she could outsmart them. What we didn't know, however, was that they were firm believers of the supernatural and had vervain in their possession."

"They found her out when she touched one of their chains. It stung her and they jumped back, screaming in their native tongues. She killed them immediately afterwards, of course, but I assume word traveled. Next thing we know, someone is in our room really late at night, holding a wooden stake over Percy's chest. If Antonio wasn't suffering from insomnia, she would no longer be with us, Rachel." He paused, jumping back into the mess bubbling inside of his head. Would this type of torture ever relent? Would she ever be able to get past the agony of sitting and watching him struggle so badly, knowing that there was nothing she could do?

"We never let him get that close again."

She nodded, coming to her own conclusion, "until tonight."

Their eyes met in that moment. And, it was too dark to see exactly what was swimming behind that dark shade of amber that she loved so much. Still, she continued to look at him.

She'd never trusted someone so much in her life. And as wary as this thought would have caused her former self to become, she no longer cared.

She still felt a little angry with him. But, nonetheless, she trusted him.

Suddenly, a hand pulled her from her thoughts. Finn caressed her cheek, as his thumb did work to push a few strands of hair out of her face.

"Let's head back," He whispered as soft as ever.

"What about-"

"He should be gone by now," he told her with all of the confidence in the world. She assumed that running from someone for so long allowed Finn the opportunity to learn of all the little things. "He wanted us to see him, get the message that he was trying to put off."

"Did you?" she wondered. "Get the message, I mean?"

"Always," he scoffed. She couldn't be quite sure, but it looked as if he rolled his eyes. "It's why he dislikes me the most. Because he wants us to be afraid of him, and I'm not."

"I wouldn't blame you, if you were." She whispered. "Because, seeing a figure in your headlights like that, not being able to see his face and watching him get closer to the car…That scared the shit out of me."

"It's one of his abilities," Finn replied, matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"He's a creator." _Quinn, the gold eyes, the older man_ , it was all starting to make sense now. Like they were finally beginning to find the small pieces to the puzzle that they'd been struggling to solve. "If they feel that they are in danger, they can affect the way others see them. This includes making their faces too dark to see, or blurry."

"But, he wasn't in danger. Doesn't he know that? Doesn't he know that you're a really good person, that you wouldn't hurt him?" She was beginning to work herself up, trying to defend Finn to himself.

"It's the exact opposite. See, he wants to hurt us. He wants to kill us." Finn explained. "Tonight, he was taking a look for himself, just as he was the night I wrecked my Porsche. It's why I was so surprised, because he doesn't do it often."

"He keeps his distance because he's not good at combat. Surprise attacks are his advantage. Anything other than that, he compels others to perform his dirty work." The stranger hanging around Quinn… She wondered if this mystery man had anyone watching her.

"How come you never told me about this before?" Rachel wondered. What if it had made a difference to know sooner?

"Because I thought that I was safe." He sighed, shaking his head. "I should have known better, coming back here."

"Back?" Rachel asked. He never mentioned living here before.

It was as if her question set off some kind of poisonous fog into the air of the conversation. He shut down immediately, sending the car into motion. "We have school in the morning," he reminded her.

Sighing, she turned up the volume to the radio, placing all of her attention back to the dark sky.

The same driveway greeted them once they returned to his home. Still, this did nothing to cure the mind-boggling silence hovering over the two. The radio was putting in all of the effort.

It was all very strange to her. There was something more than before, something that seemed more off in the way that he just sat there.

She noticed this as the minutes in their travel back began to dwindle down. She could no longer be sure of the look on his face. Instead of evidence of the same battle lingering in his forehead, something of a different origin appeared to be sketched across his features. It was in the way he positioned his eyebrows. It wasn't worry, or fear. Nor could she detect any form of sorrow.

Instead, a type of resentment seemed to settle into his eyes.

Of what? She couldn't quite imagine. There was a list of things that had taken a drastic downward spiral since the first time they'd met. Four deaths, Quinn, and now this…

Fear spiked within her, wondering if he associated this intense level of poor luck with her presence in his life.

No, no, no… He couldn't possibly think that way. It was just all of the sleep that she missed out on the other night, catching up to her conscience. She was making hasty assumptions, jumping to incorrect conclusions.

Looking down at the clock in the middle of the dashboard, she concluded the reasoning behind her irrationality. The green numbers told her that it was close to midnight. It was late, and she knew somewhere deep down inside that he was probably struggling from fatigue as well.

Turning back to him, she could no longer take it. The same look was registered upon his face.

"Finn?" she whispered through the darkness. "Are you okay?"

It was obvious that he had not fully escaped his reverie when he asked, "What?"

"Oh, me, right, yeah… Rachel, I'm fine."

She gave him a look. And, though the street light and green controls were the only form of light in the small space, Rachel got the feeling that he'd comprehended it.

This look spoke, "You know that you can't bullshit me, and I will not let you bullshit me."

He sighed, then.

Cutting off the engine, he unfastened his seatbelt and finally made the decision to let her back in.

"I'm sorry to keep acting like this," he reached out in an attempt to take her hand in his, an attempt that she would never let him fail. Holding his hand in her own, she listened closely while running her thumb along the rough skin across his palms. "You know that that's the last thing that I want, Princess."

She cringed, again, wondering why Finn was calling her by Nathaniel's nickname.

He continued, "It's just that so much has happened today, or this whole fucking month, and I'm just so tired."

She nodded in understanding even if she really couldn't, "Of course."

"Some serious sleep could do us no wrong," she chuckled to lighten the mood.

It seemed to be a success. He let out a soft laugh, "I think you're right."

A few more moments passed by as they sat in silence. Resting her head against his shoulder, her eyes slowly began to drop. Sensing this, Finn slowly opened the door on his side of the car.

In no time her door was opened, and he was waiting for her with the handle to her bag fastened upon his right shoulder.

As they walked toward the brick home, Rachel remained wary of her surroundings. Though the mysterious figure was no longer in their presence, there was no telling when he'd decide to show up again. Finn said that he was feeling brave tonight, and she questioned how long it would take for that feeling to expire. Blitz attacks were never her strong suit.

She tried to ignore the confused look that Finn gave her once she came to a complete stop in front of the moon-lit home. She could do nothing but tend to the overwhelming feeling of excitement and adrenaline pumping through her dull veins.

Sneaking around could place them in a heaping amount of trouble at any given moment. That's what caused her dead heart to gallop. The excitement was because of the fact that Rachel had never witnessed Finn's home before. She felt as if she were in Disney land or a child on Christmas morning.

Everything about the exterior design spoke of Carole. The seasonal wreath hanging on the front door, the lawn gnomes, the clay garden pots, the ferns, the beautiful flowers… Evidence of her brilliant personality bounced from each item.

Of course, she had yet to meet this woman face-to-face, but after everything Finn told her… She felt as if she had known her for years.

Grabbing his hand once again, she followed as he led them to the entrance.

As the two crept into the dark and quiet space of what appeared to be the sitting area, her nose was taken over by a very intense smell.

This particular scent was in no way unappealing. In fact, if her glands were still active, her mouth would start to water. Another room, just a little ways down, seemed to be the source of it. As they continued to tiptoe around the corner, she realized what it was.

 _Human food…_

What was it, exactly? Fried chicken? It had to be of some form of meat that she smelled. She could also pick up on corn, and maybe…mashed potatoes?

How odd. She wasn't aware that certain things from the mortal world could still have such an effect on her. The memory of disgust on her first day, pushing her cardboard food around on her plate in the cafeteria, was enough to vouch for this.

"They don't know about you guys?" she guessed.

He shook his head as they passed through the kitchen. From what she could see through the darkness, it was all very modern in design. "We don't keep blood in the house."

She nodded, not being able to fathom the exhaustion behind having to keep up a charade at all times, even within your own home.

Maybe that's why he liked being at her house so much. Will and Emma had always made it a number one priority to distinguish the line between reality and make-believe within the walls of their confined space.

However, as she thought about it more, Finn was very versatile. She couldn't say the same for the other two, seeing as though she'd never been formally introduced. Still, after many years on the run, they seemed to have their shit together. They were survivors, and something told her that they didn't mind having to sacrifice just a little to keep up that title.

She remained up Finn's ass as they made another turn, just in time to meet a long hallway. It was not quite as drastic as her family's. There were no chandeliers, nor were there various forms of random art situated among the walls.

Instead, this space was a little narrower. The soft shine of a night light in the middle of the space provided a guide for the two along the same dark, wooden floor. This also allowed Rachel to take in the contents hanging on the coffee colored walls.

A vast supply of family photos was what her observations presented her with. There were many, not an empty space in sight. And the settings of each varied. In one, she saw a few little children gathered around a colorful holiday tree. Another presented an old man and woman sitting on a bench somewhere.

It was one picture, however, hanging toward the middle of the hallway that caught her eye immediately. She wasn't exactly sure of the reason, until she got a little closer. From a far-away glance, she could have sworn she saw the image of her mother.

Walking over to the large golden frame, Rachel regarded the woman who looked almost exactly like Anna-Claire. She was young, maybe in her late teens, or early twenties. Standing proudly and poised in a very beautiful and flowy white dress, she appeared to be very tall and thin. Long and curly locks of golden blonde draped down both of her shoulders, stopping just below her breasts. The only thing different, really, were the eyes of this woman.

Instead of the memory of her mother's beautiful hazel, this woman's eyes were a spectacular shade of blue. It was almost as if she were lost in the middle of a large blue ocean.

With one hand positioned around a large bouquet of flowers, her other was holding the hand of a young man, who appeared to be around the same age. Four or five inches taller, he wore a black tux, with dark brown hair and a large, genuine grin plastered across his face.

"That's Carole and Mike," Finn told her after some time.

 _Holy Shit…_

She wondered if Carole still resembled her mother. Would seeing her be like getting an image of how her mother would appear if she hadn't passed so young? Her chest tightened a bit, thinking of Anna-Claire.

"Emma has one of these," she whispered, trying to distract herself from the lump of emotion gathering in her throat. "Of course, it was way before this photo was taken. I'm not even sure when her and Will were married. She keeps it somewhere in her closet."

"Really?" he sounded intrigued.

"That's where she keeps all of our family photos. It's an entire wall. There's like a whole section for each of our albums."

"I see," he nodded. "Sort of like a safe haven, if any humans were to visit."

"Exactly," she smiled.

Wrapping his fingers back around hers, he led her to the last white door, all the way at the end of the long space.

"So," she smirked, placing her hand on the golden knob. "The dwelling place of sir Finn Hudson... I'm excited."

He snorted, "It's not much, I promise you."

"We'll see about that." She winked, walking into the dark room.

The heavenly scent of his cologne was the first thing that caught her attention. Gosh, she thought his jacket was enough to send her over the edge… The smell clung to just about every object in this room.

Flipping on the light switch, her heart pounced as she was formally introduced to the full sight of his room.

It was small. She got that by looking at all four walls. Still, the space suited his personality perfectly. Taking one step inside, she was immediately enveloped with feelings of warmth and coziness, love and acceptance. The same way she usually felt, nuzzled into his side on their little red couch, in front of the fire place.

The walls were of a magnificent shade of grey, instantaneously allowing the dark navy blue of the duvet on his bed and matching drapes on his window to stand out. Another thing, two of the four walls, on her left and right sides, curved a little outwards, emphasizing the location of the entrance to the room.

She decided to start her tour on her left side.

The first thing she noticed, directly on the side of her, was what appeared to be a built-in shelf. Two levels comprised this shelf, both filled with DVDs and video games.

In correspondence to the wooden shelf, a large flat-screen hung high on the wall, in the corner where the left side of the wall dipped outwards. A Wii and an X-box were positioned on the floor, with two consoles connected.

Beside this exhibit, stood what appeared to be another hand-crafted case. Unlike the first one, it stood on the hard wood of the floors. Atop the smooth surface of the dark wood sat a vintage record player. With the design, she could only assume that the brilliant machine dated back to the early thirties. Below, the four levels built into the wooden case housed a variety of different records from every decade until now.

"Two very high-quality portals to the world of gaming sitting right there on your floor, a large television hanging above my head," she joked," But, all of your music comes from this really old record player right here?"

"We can't all afford the nicer things, Ms. Berry." He retaliated.

"Did you keep this, or did you buy it antique?" she was very curious now.

"Carole got me this beauty at a yard sale, of all places." He smiled at her, running one of his hands over the ancient thing. For some reason, in this moment, she couldn't take her eyes off of him. The look on his face, the youthful sense of bliss projecting from his expression…

In this light, he appeared young. Not like the body of the 18 year old boy that he was eternally trapped in. No, he looked like a different person, examining his record player. More like the teenagers that they attended school with on a daily basis. Standing with him now, she was absolutely sure that she was seeing what Finn must have looked like before his human life was stripped away from him.

The thought alone sent a sudden warm wave throughout her body _. Happiness…_ That's how she classified it _._ How blessed she was, to know someone so beautiful, inside and out.

"It's much different than modern music," he explained to her. "It just brings me back, you know?" she nodded, thinking of Louis Armstrong's unique sound and how she would give anything to be able to attend another of his live concerts.

"Dance with me?"

He didn't give her time to think. With the slightest of motions, the machine started spinning and Ella Fitzgerald began to sing "I've Got a Feeling I'm Falling".

In no time, she was wrapped within the warm cocoon of his arms. As the beautiful music uplifted the atmosphere of the small room, she rested her head against the center of his chest. As his scent wafted in through her nostrils, she closed her eyes and allowed him to lead the way. Swaying back and forth, she had to agree that the music was divine. However, what sounded much more intriguing, what her ears were much more focused on, was the glorious steady beat of his immortal heart.

"Forget my criticisms, Mr. Hudson," she told him, her voice just below a whisper, once the music stopped and the record ceased to spin. "This will definitely be jotted down on my 'top five moments' list."

"Hmm," he smirked. "Now I'm intrigued. What exactly are the top five moments of Rachel Berry's life?"

"Well," she answered truthfully, "four of them include you."

"Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

"I'd read you the list," she smiled. "But, then I'd have to kill you."

"Harsh," he held his chest, mocking a blow to his heart.

"Classified information," she held up her hands in mock defense.

"Well, I've already evaded death one too many times," he started. "So, how about we continue with the short tour?"

"Okay," she grabbed his hand. She felt much better now, as his mood appeared to be lifted.

The next item in her line of focus was a desk of, once again, a dark colored wood. This desk was large, maybe larger than the one that she had in her room. In addition, it was much more cluttered.

Forget cluttered… It looked as if a tornado had passed through. Different writing utensils teamed up with a variety of unfinished sketches to cover the entire wooden surface of his desk. Aside the mess was a single opened notebook with writing in it and three different picture frames with actual pictures in them. The three musketeers, as she liked to call Finn, Percy, and Toni, posed in one. Carole and Finn posed in the middle one. And finally, making her heart skip at least ten beats, a picture of the two of them sat on his desk.

The outfit that she was wearing… It was the photo that Emma had taken of the two on the night that he decided to take her out on an official date.

"When did Emma give you this?" she wondered.

"She slipped it to me when you were getting more coffee for her in the kitchen."

She laughed, "Of course she did."

Her laughter only intensified when he joined in. Then, her eyes caught something above the desk, hanging on the wall, and she halted. She was taken as a victim of mesmerization.

"Is that the-" she couldn't even continue her question.

She'd only heard stories of his paintings. She'd never actually seen one in person, until now.

But, that wasn't all.

This one was much more special to her. It held sentimental value to just the two of them. And the notion that he chose to hang this specific work in his room overwhelmed her.

A blazing fireplace illuminated the space in the painting, a space so very familiar to her. And in the very center of the painting was a sofa. Their little red sofa.

"Finn, I have no words." She was nearly paralyzed by her fascination. "Beautiful doesn't even cover it."

"With putting it on my wall, I figured it would always be with me," he explained, pulling her closer to him. "As would you."

"I vote that you paint one of those for me, too," she joked. "To give me something to think of you, on the nights when you can't sneak into my window."

"Consider it done," he brushed a strand from her hair.

"Is this where all of the work is done?" she asked. Right beside the desk was what appeared to be a worn easel. A blank canvas decorated the front, while a small wooden stool and many different colored tubes of paint crowded the area. With splatters of different colors decorating the stool, the wood of the easel, and even a small portion of the walls, Rachel could see exactly where the images in his mind came to life in his paintings.

How she'd give anything to sit one day and just watch him work. It was one of the many things she'd include on her bucket list.

Next to the painting station, she noticed another door, resembling the one they'd walked through to get into his room.

"May I?" she asked, reaching for the tiny golden knob.

"Sure," he said, moving closely behind her. As she opened the door, he quickly flipped on another light switch, revealing the average-sized walk-in closet.

She was mistaken when she thought that his scent was strong in his room. It simply flooded the small space as she walked further into it.

There were four racks of clothing, on her left and right. This included jackets, coats, and at least four suits and two tuxedos. The rest comprised of a large selection of jeans, shirts; both long and short sleeved, and leather jackets, ranging in six different colors.

A line of bags and suitcases rested under the left row of clothes. Mirroring these items on the right side was a variety of different types of shoes.

"How do you like it?" he asked. "I know yours is the size of my entire room."

She chuckled as they stepped out, "I love your closet. It suits you."

"Thank you, baby," he winked.

She couldn't help but blush.

Closing the door behind them, Rachel continued her curious trek across the room. After the door to the closet, there was nothing more on the left side of the wall to see. Instead, it turned like the sides of a square, and she was now faced with the wall furthest from the entrance door.

This wall was the simplest of the four. The double window situated in the middle seemed to split things in half. One side appeared to be a display for classic rock posters, pictures with the football team, one with Noah Puckerman, one with Mike Chang, a few with other people that she didn't really recognize, and a collection of metals and trophies. On the opposite side, she noticed a small bedside table. Atop was a modern type of lamp, along with a battered paperback copy of _Jane Eyre_. A small collection of additional books rested in the compartment beneath.

He seemed to notice the confusion upon her face. "I don't keep my whole collection with me." He explained, "Since we come and go so much, I have to travel light."

She nodded in understanding.

His bed appeared to be on the other side of the table. The frame was thick, and made of dark wood. The full-sized daybed also took up most of the space on the right. Being situated against the grey walls, only the left side allowed access into the bed.

Finally, at the foot of the bed, also fixated along the right wall was a large wooden dresser. She assumed that this was where kept all of his t-shirts, socks, and…and underwear.

Damnit, she couldn't help but continue to blush.

A mirror sat above the dresser, as well as his hairbrush, a comb, and a silver tray, containing all the different bottles of cologne that he owned.

"Well, that concludes the tour." He told her once she'd seen it all. "How do you like it?"

"It's perfect," she exclaimed almost a little too loud, wrapping him in a bear hug. "Just like you."

He chuckled, smiling down at her. Tucking her hair behind her ears, he dipped his body slightly to place a soft kiss against her lips.

"Are you tired?" he whispered.

"Extremely," she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck. Following, his arms went around her hips. Placing her forehead against his, she chuckled half-heartedly. "How could you tell?"

"You called me perfect," he laughed.

"I meant that."

The moment he gave her that half grin, her legs were jelly. "I love you. And I'm sorry about the way that I acted today. I don't want to be that distant again."

"Me neither," she admitted, feeling the weight lift further off of her shoulders. There were so many things that the future versions of themselves have to deal with. But, the thought that they were okay for right now was so relieving.

"You're too much of a miracle for me to take for granted," he whispered. The moment he spoke those words, she felt the familiar warm feeling of happiness swimming through her veins.

With this guy right here, the feeling was no longer so fucking foreign.

"As you are to me, Finn," she said. Resting her head once more against his chest, she allowed him to sway her back and forth. "You. Have. No. idea…"

She wasn't aware of herself falling asleep until gravity took full effect. As Finn whipped them around, she felt herself falling to the hard floor before his one hand caught the small of her back.

"Hey," he lightly shook her awake.

She apologized, "You're just like a big teddy bear. I couldn't help it."

He laughed, shaking his head.

Pulling away from her, she watched as he walked over to the big dresser that she was assessing moments earlier. Pulling the handles on the third drawer, he opened what appeared to be his t-shirt collection.

Choosing one of dark grey, he tossed it in her direction. On it, she examined a dark black logo supporting a local trucking business. "I'll give you your space if you need."

"Please," she rolled her eyes, waving her hand in his direction, "We almost had sex on that red sofa." She pointed to the painting. "You're fine where you are."

She heard him chuckle before she began to strip. Sliding on the over-sized t-shirt, she immediately felt at peace. Air traveled in through the fibers of the cloth, creating a cool but comfortable feeling.

Climbing into the bed felt like being on a cloud. Everything was so soft. The pillows, the mattress, the incredibly warm sheets…

The minute her head rested against the pillow and the lights were cut off, she knew that she was fading.

However, something stood out again. Something was wrong.

He wasn't climbing into the bed next to her.

Opening her eyes, she watched as he grabbed the chair from his desk, pulling it closer to the side of the bed. Taking off both of his shoes, he rested his bare feet against the soft mattress.

"Finn, what the hell are you doing?" she asked.

"Get to sleep, Rachel." He urged. "I'm just going to keep look out for a while."

Was he insane? "Finn, it's late, you need your sleep. Don't be ridiculous."

"You need it more," he told her with a stern voice, a voice that meant whatever arguments he held in his mind were concrete, no dispute. This was one of their many flaws. Both were too stubborn for their own good. She knew if she continued, she'd set off a thunderstorm.

Was it really worth it after the amazing time they'd just shared?

"Fine," she whispered. "But, you're waking me up, okay? At four o'clock, so you can get some sleep."

He nodded to himself. "Good night, Rachel."

"Goodnight, Finn."

And then she was out.

* * *

 _Serenity…_ The feeling engulfed her, like a warm blanket on a very cold and rainy day.

Another thing she noticed was the aroma. Of a rich lavender scent, the air around clung to her tightly.

A light thunderstorm seemed to be brewing outside. The soft pitter-patter of rain droplets against a closed window added to her meditation.

Only one detail remained pungent.

Her gratifying atmosphere seemed muggy and incredibly humid. She found herself feeling too warm, almost hot, as the hair on her head clung to the sides of her neck and forehead…

Hair that was not piled up on the top of her head when she went to sleep… Hmmm, this was odd. She also remembered being cold, falling asleep.

Her suspicion allowed her eyes to slowly open and assess her surroundings. Just as she suspected, this was not the cozy space of Finn's small bedroom.

Instead, she could not really tell where she was. The room was awfully dim, obstructing her ability to see. The only source of light seemed to be a candle at the other end of the large room.

Another aspect robbed her attention.

Lowering her head, she was stunned to discover that she was naked and sitting waist-deep in blazing water. Large piles of suds clung to her body as she ran her fingers against the metal surface of what she assumed to be a bathtub.

She began to question the fact that she may be lucidly dreaming.

Then, the sound of a doorknob turning interrupted her reverie. There was the single light of another candle, and then a face.

She gasped, throwing her sud-covered hand over her lips.

It was Sarah. It was Sarah's face.

"I have more pails for you, Ms. Berry," She smiled sincerely, holding open the wooden door with her foot. It was enough to send a draft of crisp cool air in through the dark, mugginess surrounding her. The feeling was sensational.

"And more of your favorite soap," she added as she appeared to be struggling with two large buckets.

"Do you need assistance?" Rachel asked, sitting up.

She'd seen this many times before. But, it was always the older women who filled her bathtub with water. They must be shorthanded tonight.

"No," she stuttered. "Please, Ms. B—Amelia, enjoy your bath."

Her behavior was peculiar. She was being distant, standing erect. Her shoulders were not relaxed, more like rigid boulders, straight and unmoving.

Odd, this was how she was when Rachel first moved into the home. Before they grew close, before she began to confide in her, before Nathaniel's mood swings grew irradical.

She sat silently as Sarah poured more hot water around her. Watching the steam evaporate into the air as she reached for another bucket, a timeline sketched itself in Rachel's mind.

When was all of this?

Once finished, Rachel was buried just below her collar bone in the amazing feeling of heated water and suds that smelled of the splendid lavender.

Straightening out the creases in the back of her simple grey dress, she slowly perched herself upon the short wooden stool beside the tub. As Rachel attempted to study the look on her face in a moment of wrecking silence, something caught Rachel's eye.

Her choice of clothing for this evening littered the floor beside the stool. There was her corset, hoop skirt, her white undergarments… But, that wasn't what took her attention. It was the gold color of the satin dress resting below them.

She recognized this dress.

It was one of her favorites. She wore it to an event, she remembered. She just couldn't quite place her finger on what event this was. Crap, her head was beginning to spin as she tried to assort everything into place. Deja vu really was kicking her ass.

"Sarah, please tell me, what is the time?" she asked, trying to distract herself from the draining puzzle in her head.

"Nearly nine in the evening, ma'am," she replied, playing with her thumbs. "Do you want more soap?"

She would have refused if the smell wasn't so heavenly. Nodding, she waited for more suds to gather around her in the water.

Returning to the stool, Rachel, or Amelia, decided to allow this girl a break. It was so late in the evening, and Sarah was performing someone else's duties, no doubt. Just by looking at her, she could see the dreariness behind her eyes, the creases in the space between her dark eyebrows, the deep sweat stains in her dress, and her harshly callused hands.

"Sarah, your services are no longer necessary. The remainder of the night belongs to you."

"Are you certain, Ms. Berry? There are still things that I have not completed. I do not wish to fall to the whip of Mr. Maddox."

Before she could answer the anxious girl, a loud banging sounded on the other side of the room. Sarah jumped to her feet as cold air seeped in like an icy storm. Swinging open, the wooden door to the bathroom bounced against the wall behind it, nearly sending it completely off of its hinges.

 _Speak of the devil and he shall appear._

Nathaniel's figure decorated the frame of the doorway, in all of his annoying glory. Her chest felt heavy. Who else would make such a dramatic scene at this hour?

She tensed up with the developing negative atmosphere. This was something new. Her privacy had never before been compromised like this. Raising her knees to her chest, she crossed her arms over as much exposed skin as physically possible.

Her heart then began to race. She was aware of the damage that he was capable of inflicting. He'd placed his hands on her already. Flashes from that notorious day in the dining room sparked to life in her mind, when the table went flying and he grabbed her, the multiple slapping occurrences that had taken place since then…

He acted this way mainly when alcohol invaded his system. And, as he walked further into the room now, her scalp prickled as the pungent sourness of whiskey disrupted the peaceful lavender.

"Sarah," he disregarded the girl completely. "Leave us."

"Yes sir," she curtseyed before taking her hurried escape. Watching the girl go, her inner voice screamed bloody murder. _Please, take me with you!_

Surprisingly enough, the door remained operative after Nathaniel's unexpected entrance. A small click sounded as it closed behind the only witness she had. With a candle of his own, Nathaniel's features were clear as day, slowly stalking forward in her direction.

Holding herself with her arms, she tried to ignore the way his eyes claimed her. These were not the same light blue orbs that she had grown so smitten with in recent time. These were dark eyes, dangerous, selfish, and nearly murderous. Lowering his bottom onto the stool that Sarah had abandoned, she attempted to sink further under the water.

It was in this moment that she realized the answer to her previous question. She was not lucidly dreaming. No, this was way more than that.

This was another one of her dreaded sleep episodes.

Like before, her conscience was forcing her to revisit her vile past. She would endure another of her hideous moments with him. Her mind would swallow her up, beat her around a little, and spit her right back out, usually resulting in a screaming fit into the early hours of dawn.

 _Emma, Emma, oh Emma…_ She tried to summon the woman with her mind.

The fact of the matter was that she knew best how to calm her down in times like these. Some honey flavored coffee, a small reassuring talk with the woman, and then she'd be on her merry way to hash it all out on the piano.

The more his eyes bore down on her body, the further she sunk under the suds. On her way down, she noticed that the water was beginning to lose its heat. She would have to get out soon. She could feel her fingers and toes pruning up.

"Please don't be angry with me, Nathaniel," she remembered her voice being barely a whisper. What she could not recount, however, was the source from which he was channeling all of his anger.

Tears were building up in her eyes as her throat was burning with pushed back emotions of terror and so much regret.

 _But, regret? Regret about what?_

Then she heard herself speak again and remembered every single detail as if it happened yesterday. "It was not in my intention to embarrass you in front of Mr. Fabray and all of your friends and family."

Ah, yes, the gold dress, the diamond rock hiding under all of the suds, the announcement party that she dreaded, oh so much.

If not classified as one of the worst nights of her life, it would go down in history as a very near second.

The gluttony, the consistent pestering of the group of elder women trying to catch a closer glimpse of her ring, her fiancé's unsubtle flirtations with young local females, the awful scent of Matthew Fabray's breath as he put his arm around her out on that secluded balcony…When all that she wanted was solace from all of it.

"I'm so sorry that I hit him." She didn't even notice that her bottom lip was quivering.

Holding one hand out to her, water splashed onto the floor as she recoiled immediately. Shutting her eyes tightly, she anticipated the blow to come.

When it never did, she slowly turned her head to find him kneeling at the side of the tub. Reaching one hand forward again, he searched her eyes carefully before placing a warm palm against her cheek. Using his thumb, he did his best to wipe away the tear rolling down the left side of her face.

"It's alright, Princess," he whispered, each word flowing out like liquid mercury. "It's quite alright."

"You're not angry?" she questioned him.

"Oh no, Amelia," He replied, shaking his head, "Nowhere close." There it was again, that venomous whispering of his. "I'm seething."

 _What?_ Her heart immediately sank further. She was so confused. She didn't understand how all of this just made one giant loop around, how he looked so calm. He was stroking her face and smiling down at her, for Pete's sake.

She'd come to memorize those deadly mood swings of his, like the back of her hand.

Bipolar disorder, she remembered reading somewhere. If Giuseppe wasn't plagued with the idea that his son was too perfect for a brain specialist, maybe they'd have become familiar with the term, as well.

 _Would he have acted differently if that were the case?_ Her conscience mused. _Maybe,_ she answered it. _Maybe not._

She remembered sitting there, wondering what the hell was running through his mind. He was like a beast, on a very thin leash. He was the lion and she was the gazelle. She'd learned that instantly. Say the slightest hint of the wrong thing and he'd pounce.

She pleaded through her tears again.

He was still smiling at her, stroking her wet hair behind her ears. Remembering the whole thing sent a nauseating feeling to her stomach.

"Answer me this, dear Amelia. Have I ever led you astray?"

She shook her head slowly, though she was not being truthful. Of course, he had in recent times. He created the illusion in her head that he could be trusted, that he had the potential to be a loving and caring companion. He promised that he would never lay his hands on her again, so many times.

"You haven't," she sighed, terror building up inside of her every time his whispering continued.

"Have I not placed a very expensive roof over your head? Have I not purchased some of the finest satins to cover your back, the rarest pools of pearls and diamonds to make you feel pretty?"

She nodded harshly, noticing that her voice was slowly fleeing her body, "You have!"

"Have I not taken enough care of you, Ms. Berry?"

Hurt, the smile was gone, and his face screamed the word "hurt".

 _It was one of his many different manipulations back then._ Truth was, he didn't give a rat's ass about what she thought of him.

"Tell me, do you not love me the way that I love you?"

Pulling and pulling, string by string, he knew deep down inside, what took her almost a century to discover.

She was his puppet.

"Of course, I love you, Nathaniel!" she sobbed. "With my entire heart, with everything that I have! You know that I do!"

"How can that possibly be true, then?" he spit harshly. In an odd way, she felt better by this. At least he was no longer hiding behind his malice, "Because a woman who loves her fiancé does not act the way that you do. You believe that your actions are without consequences, Amelia. You go out of your way to defy me, to embarrass me. You slapped Matthew Fabray across the face tonight. Are you even capable enough to understand the wrong in that? Damnit, that level of disrespect is an insult to me!"

"He touched me!" she tried to defend herself.

"Yeah, well, right now I want to touch you!" He scoffed, and then through gritted teeth, he spoke again. "I want to wrap both of my hands around your little neck until your face turns blue, and then I want to repeatedly beat the shit out of you, hear your cries for help, until you fall unconscious."

Forget terror, she was mortified.

"I'm sorry," she cried, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."

"You placed everything on the fucking line, for me, for my father, for our company, our future," he snarled. "I should have never listened to my father. I should have left you in that little barn with your father, like the animals you really are."

"Please," she cried again. How was his voice so soft again? "Don't hit me."

"Hit you?" he began to stroke her face again. Every touch felt like a blow torch to her cheek. "Oh my Princess, I can't hit you right now."

Relief flooded in her chest.

Then, his eyes went dark again. "Not when I can do this."

All oxygen present in her lungs took flight. Thrashing underneath the soapy water, she grabbed the hand holding her neck down, trying her hardest to claw it away with her finger nails.

He was too strong. She swore that she was under for at least five minutes before he let go. Rushing to the surface, she gasped for air, feeling dizzier than ever.

At first, she didn't know how to react. She was shell-shocked. She just looked at him, at his wicked smile.

Then, she broke out into a fit of hysteric sobs. How could someone who she was supposed to love so much treat her so horribly?

He grasped her neck again, "Nathaniel, don't!" she screeched.

"Should've been a good girl," he snickered.

Then, the back of her head slammed against the floor of the metal tub as he forced her under again. Every fight against his hand turned into a restless battle and every time he allowed her to come back up, she felt more drowsy.

"Nathaniel," she called out. "Just kill me already. Please."

She was tossed under again. However, this time she didn't fight, neither did she come back up. She only closed her eyes as she allowed the darkness to consume her.

* * *

Her chest. She was clutching at her chest. She could tell this much, feeling the dramatic rise and fall of the surface with every loud breath she took. Wheezing against her hand, she felt like a peasant, groveling for oxygen's almighty favor.

It took her more than a minute to remember that she had just escaped a nightmare and that she was sitting upright in a bed. As she fought off the haunting feeling of water against her body, she shifted, noticing the dim bit of light that seeped in through his drapes.

It was definitely a lot later than four o'clock. Crap, why didn't Finn wake her like she'd requested?

Assessing the still figure lying next to her, she instantly knew the reason. Two hands rested underneath his head as his eyelashes decorated the top of his cheeks, the chair beside the bed completely forgotten. He had fallen asleep.

Like the change in tide at sea, the hurt in her chest slowly started to transform into satisfaction. At least one of them would be getting a few hours of the rest that was needed.

Running her sweaty palms against the slight trail of tears running down her cheeks, she decided that she would have to move soon. As much as she loved the idea of watching Finn sleep, she knew that the memory of the dream would tear away at her if she sat still for too long.

Squirming over Finn's body and out of the bed, she glanced at the small clock on her cellphone. 6:08, the tiny white numbers read. Along with these tiny white numbers were a list of calls and texts.

 _Emma: Where are you?_

 _Santana: Are you okay?_

 _Olivia: Hey, where are you? Call me when you can. We're worried about you._

 _Will: Hey, please call me when you see this._

She slapped her palm to her forehead. There was definitely a lot more where that came from. Below the list of text messages were 24 different calls and voicemails, all from the same familiar numbers.

This was the exact moment she realized that the sudden night terror was the exact least of her worries.

She had not a clue where to go from here.

Would she sneak out the window and leave him a little note, apologizing as well as explaining why she thought it would be a better option to evade confrontation and run back home, to where Emma and Will were surely waiting? Would she really be willing to face the belt over him and his family?

Tiptoeing past the nightstand beside his bed, she slowly pushed the drapes to the side with her fingers. Shit. Rain. Buckets of it, to be exact. Just falling to the ground. Soaking herself in an attempted escape would definitely not be a viable option.

So, what was next? She could not sit still and just wait for him to wake up. She would lose her mind, wallowing in her feelings. Emma, Santana, and Olivia were the only ones to ever witness her episodes. She couldn't bear to add Finn's name to that list. Besides, he looked so peaceful now. She didn't consider herself selfish enough to wake him for her own benefit.

This left only one option. The antisocial part of her would just have to suck it up and face all who waited outside of that wooden door. Collecting all of her clothes from the floor, she squeezed her eyes tight as she slowly maneuvered herself out into the hall.

Complete quiet awaited her, the same type of quiet that met them last night. A sigh of relief found her then, considering the fact that she may have lucked out.

Finding what appeared to be their bathroom, she shut the door behind her, turned the lock, and fell against it. The same pattern rose in her chest as she once again struggled for air.

 _Calm down, now,_ her mind tried to reprimand her. The last thing she needed was to fall into a full blown panic attack on the floor in an unfamiliar home.

Rising from her crouching position, she decided to remedy her mind the best way she knew how, with a steaming shower. Stripping and climbing in behind the curtain, she allowed the hot spray to caress her body and erase all aches, both physical and mental.

But somehow, the tiny walls of the shower were just not enough to protect her. It was the little things. Like the lavender scented shower gel, the water falling to the ground, the small tub in which she was standing, the memory of his blue eyes, piercing right through her dark soul…

After washing herself free of yesterday's grime, she shut off the water source and carried her drenched feet onto the fuzzy piece of carpet before her. It was in the midst of rummaging through each cabinet in search for a towel that a light tap on the shoulder nearly sent her skeleton out of her skin.

Her heart rested at her toes as she took in the sleep-swollen face of the girl standing before her, holding out a yellow towel in her marvelous hands. Deep eyes of brown met her own as messy hair, as long and bright blonde as Olivia's, decorated the frame of her face; a very familiar face.

"Percy, I presume," she flushed, grabbing the towel, "thanks".

The girl didn't speak. Nor did she allow time for uncomfortable silence. Instead, her eyes were curious as she begun to circle Rachel. Was she being judged? A little less discreetly than she'd initially intended, a gulp emerged from her throat.

The last time they were in each other's presence, they were in the middle of a drug deal and Rachel simply did not care enough to know that this girl was closely affiliated with her soulmate.

"Sorry," she chuckled after a while longer. Finn was right. Everything about this girl was glorious, even her feather-soft voice. "This door is kind of loose, so anyone can get in from the outside. When I woke it sort of surprised me that it was locked. Toni and Finn usually leave the door open for me to brush my teeth. It's our morning system."

"I-I'm sorry, if I would've known…"

"You don't have to apologize to me, Princess." Pure chills ran up her spine. There was _that_ word again. Couldn't they use any other term of endearment?

She watched Percy as she fumbled with her toothbrush. With a full mouth, she addressed her again. "Carole keeps extra toothbrushes below the sink. I take it that you didn't plan on spending the night here, Rachel?"

They both looked to her pile of yesterday's clothes flooding over the side of the counter.

"You know my name?" This seemed like an easier topic to touch upon.

"Of course, I know your name," she beamed. Rachel caught her eye through the mirror as she began working on her own teeth with a cheap purple brush that she pulled from a plastic wrap. "You're all he talks about."

The thought made her all giddy inside. Of course she did the same thing at home, but to think that Finn thought she was important enough to discuss with them…She couldn't help the childish grin that found her lips.

Rinsing her brush under the warm water, Percy offered a tiny disposable rinsing cup. As she wiped her mouth clean, she jumped when the girl grabbed her wrist.

"You should follow me," she seemed so excited to be in Rachel's company, so lively at such an early hour. It led her to wonder if Percy possessed any other female friends, or if Finn really talked her up this much in their household?

Holding the towel close to her body, she tried to keep up as Percy enthusiastically hauled her across the familiar hall, to another white door. Walking in tow of the blonde, she suddenly realized that her style resembled one close to her own, as well as her sister, Olivia.

There was a dark red tint to the walls of her room that Rachel could appreciate, as well as many quotes written with what appeared to be a black permanent marker. At the same time, flowers covered her duvet, loads of makeup and nail polish cluttered her vanity station, and a dresser in the corner of her room displayed a sea of jewelry.

"You like?" she asked after a while, placing both hands to her hips. She almost seemed nervous. Was her opinion really that important?

Running her hand over the wall, she found a poem that she recognized. It was one by Edgar Allan Poe, from _A Dream_ , more specifically.

" _In visions of the dark night_

 _I have dreamed of joy departed—_

 _But a waking dream of life and light_

 _Hath left me broken-hearted."_

"I love it," Rachel nodded. "Neat idea, with all of these quotes. I would have never thought of doing this. Granted, my foster parent, Emma, would have had my ass on a golden stick if I had."

There was that glorious sound of the girl's chuckle again—seriously, it could make the angels cry. "I did it when we first got here. Carole had her reservations at first, but I'm sure she's come around to it by now."

"At least it's bits of literature and not pictures of teenage boys," Rachel mocked.

"Those are actually in the back of my closet," she held up her hands with a sheepish smirk. "Now, c'mon. As comfortable as Finn's t-shirt may have been last night, I'm sure you'd like some actual clothes. And I refuse to allow you to wear the same clothes you wore yesterday. Take this lightly, will you? You have a very boring sense of style."

Blunt, too? This was great. Rachel could definitely appreciate someone who didn't hold her tongue. Her family did it too much.

Then she felt a heavy feeling in her chest, thinking back to her conversation with Santana on their first day of school here, when she told her that she really didn't care about the way that she looked.

"Do you do this often?" Rachel asked, skimming her hand against one of the many colorful fabrics hanging from the rack.

"Are you kidding? Finn and Toni would be sharing Mike's hand-me-downs if it weren't for my genius in the world of fashion." The girl assured her with a smug grin.

"I think that you would really get along with one of my sisters," Rachel told her.

"The blonde cheerleader?" She asked, raising a mocking eyebrow.

"When you say it like that…" Rachel smirked. "Just don't let her hear you say it. She'd have your head."

"I think I could take her. I do have one question, though. The things she wears… are they real?"

"No other way," Rachel rolled her eyes at the thought of Olivia's gigantic designer closet. "She would die before being spotted in knockoffs."

"Maybe we should sneak in and raid it sometime, then," she commented. "Now, onto you. Would you be okay if I treated you as my Barbie for the morning?"

Rachel looked at her. What exactly did she have in mind?

"It's just that I live with two guys, and I don't really have that many friends. You're the first girl that's come to the house in a really, really long time." Crap, now she was forced to give in.

"Sure, if it means that much to you. Just please nothing too drastic. We still have school to go to," she replied. By giving permission, she could tell that she just made the goddess's entire day.

"Oh no, sister. I've already decided the perfect look for you in my mind." Ushering Rachel towards her station, she started on painting her face with brushes. "Congrats, you've just earned yourself a brand new best friend." And by the look on Percy's face through the mirror, Rachel knew that she meant it.

As the next half-hour ticked by, the two maintained small talk, mostly with Rachel answering all of Percy's invasive questions.

Once she began on her hair, it was apparent to Rachel that Percy was unaware of her immortal status. She danced around certain words, choked over suspicious sentences. With this bit of information in mind, Rachel decided to remain as discreet as possible. She didn't want to stir the pot just yet. Maybe Finn wanted to be the one to inform his family.

It was scary how much she was coming to see herself in the blonde, how much she was growing to like Percy. She'd only met the girl maybe one hour ago and they were already sharing their similar opinions on school, music, poetry—they'd even come to the conclusion that they both enjoyed the same type of blood.

Listening to her describe her favorite experiences in the past with the boys, Rachel found a different picture of the girl in her mind, way different from the one Finn's previous descriptions painted.

She wasn't just fierce, or intimidating. She was something else, entirely. Before her, Rachel finally found someone who could keep up with her, someone who _she_ could keep up with. This was a feeling she had not experienced since the first few weeks of knowing Finn Hudson.

"I'm glad Finn found you," the girl gushed through the mirror. "He's happy again, and you have no idea how happy that makes us. We're all very fond of you, Rachel."

"Thank you," she smiled a shy smile, watching as a single curl fell from the iron in her hands. "Really, that means a lot to me. I've actually come to grow very envious of your connection with one another. Finn always speaks so highly of you."

She seemed flattered, flabbergasted even, "Those are definitely new words to my ear."

She wanted to say more, tell her more of the things her brother said about their life together, their past, and how much he appreciated them. But, she was interrupted. A small knock sounded against the door.

"Come in," the girl's accent touched each corner of the small room, like a glorious opera.

Standing in the doorway was another familiar face. With dark hair like Finn's, he wore sweat pants, a designer t-shirt, Nike tennis shoes, and the same letterman jacket.

What sport did he play? She didn't remember watching him out on the football field. Then again, she didn't even watch Finn when she was there, so who knows?

The bright blue of his eyes immediately sent negative feelings to her chest. However, once she got another look at him, she felt differently. The ocean in his eyes appeared to be calming, more welcoming than Nathaniel's, and more sincere. He was harmless.

"Hello," he regarded her politely. Rachel could see the surprise in his face.

"T, this is Rachel. Rachel, this is Toni." Percy pronounced the introductory speech.

"Please excuse my disarray. I did not know that you would be visiting with us this morning. It's nice to finally be able to meet you," he commented coolly.

"You as well," she tried to sound as sincere as possible. But, something was off. She couldn't help but feel awkward. There was a type of tension floating in the air; so heavy as the two looked at each other a certain way. It was like they hadn't spoken to each other in some time.

Did this have anything to do with Finn's behavior last night?

No, she stopped herself. Jumping to conclusions this early in the morning would benefit no one.

"I was just coming to collect you for breakfast," he informed Percy. "Rachel, I hope you like waffles. Carole made plenty," his nervous chuckle seemed beautiful, like trumpets amidst a smooth jazz tune.

Geez, these people were the perfect package…Like the fucking Brady Bunch.

"Definitely," she nodded enthusiastically, "thank you". This was when she realized that she was still wrapped in a towel. After he shut the door, her cheeks turned to crimson.

"Okay, I'm finished," Percy clapped her hands together. "You can get dressed. I'll meet you in the kitchen. I just have to discuss some things with Finn real quick."

She nodded, watching her go.

Maybe her hearing was better than Rachel's. Or, she'd been so consumed in bonding with Percy that she forgot to notice Finn waking. Guilt rose in her chest, walking over to the girl's made bed, where her new clothes rested. She hoped he wouldn't think that she'd just up and leave him.

She could sit him down, she thought, tell him everything that happened while he was asleep. She could state that she simply did not want to interrupt the rest that he needed and deserved. Still, knowing him, this probably wouldn't sit well in his stomach. He would feel betrayed, because they told each other everything now.

Observing the set of clothing before her, a fit of giggles escaped her lips. Bold, was the first word that came to mind. Yes, she'd definitely call it that.

She would look different once she'd put this on. And not the same type of different as the other night, when Santana and Olivia prepared her for Finn's date.

Blue met her eyes first. Not a dark blue, or even royal. Light blue, like the sky on a good day… Accompanying this colored leather jacket was a white shirt and a pair of black jeans that would definitely cut off her circulation. Last but not least, on the floor next to the bed stood a pair of high heels in the same shade of blue.

Yes, high heels…and, it was raining outside.

Maybe she was wrong about Percy. Maybe she was trying to kill her.

Would she mind if she borrowed her stick of deodorant, as well? She hoped not.

Once the outfit was squeezed into, Rachel stared at herself in the full length of the mirror next to Percy's closet. Assessing the changes made to herself, she realized that she actually kind of enjoyed how the outfit made her look. Of course, she'd have to find another jacket to place over herself in this icy weather, and be careful enough not to slip and break her neck in these shoes… But other than that, the girl really was a genius.

Her hair was what threw her off track the most. It was shorter at her sides, now that it had been curled. But that was not it. It was her bangs, the ones that sat upon her forehead every day. They were gone. With the magic of a single clip, Rachel peered at the reflection of her entire face, of her forehead. And she decided that she liked what she saw.

In the beginning, she'd cut them to initiate change. In a new decade, with a new family, she no longer wanted to look in the mirror and see the gloom that she felt. She no longer wanted to see the girl with bruises all over her face. She thought if she changed her look, she'd feel better. She also wanted to carve out a new identity for herself. She wanted to be Rachel Berry. Not Amelia.

She couldn't be more wrong, she decided, looking over herself. Here, in this mirror, she looked young, free… so freaking happy. Her eyes were brighter than they used to be, her cheekbones were higher on her face. It was like she had the world at her feet again, and she could do whatever the fuck she wanted with it. And she knew then—more than anything else—that he had _everything_ to do with it.

The boy in the next room was her saving grace.

Gathering her towel from the floor, she realized that she was now in the same predicament as earlier. She couldn't run. She'd just have to face her anxiety head-on and make her way into the kitchen with the others.

The click of her heels against the wooden floor did absolutely zip to help her preference for blending into the background. The dark kitchen that they snuck through last night was now fully lit. And, as she made the corner, her heart sunk into her stomach, approaching the three faces sitting at the counter. To her utter dismay, none of the faces belonged to Percy or Finn.

Holding a fork with a piece of waffle on it, Toni was the first person that she noticed. With a shy smile, he waved before taking a swig of his orange juice.

This was the first glimpse she got of another one of the three playing human. She was beyond impressed. He was just as good as Finn.

Her heart stammered a little harder when his motion caught the attention of the older man sitting next to Toni. Dressed in work coveralls and chewing on his cereal, his bitter face observed her like a home intruder. In a way, maybe she was. Seeking shelter inside Percy's jacket, she waited for him to move and pull out a giant shotgun.

When she couldn't take it anymore, and her eyes moved on, the woman sitting next to him was no longer there. She was up, moving at too fast of a pace for Rachel's liking, in her direction.

 _Carole._ Holy shit. Emotion rocked her chest, taking in the image of the woman before, taking the towel from her hands. Though her blonde hair was shorter and graying in some areas, her eyes were just as blue and she was just as beautiful as she appeared the day of her wedding.

And, she was right. This woman was the spitting image of her mother, through and through. Seeing the differences with aging made her throat cloud up. If Anna-Claire hadn't been ripped from them so early...

Dressed in red scrubs with white tennis shoes, the woman stood a foot taller than Rachel. "Who's this?" she asked, her voice sounding exactly how she imagined it. Like a chorus of birds.

"H-Hi, m-ma'am," her insides churned as she stumbled. This was nowhere close to how she wanted her voice to sound. Her nerves were getting the better of her. Just like Percy, her opinion mattered. For some reason, especially now, seeing her mother so much in this woman, she found it necessary to be liked.

"This is Rachel," Toni came to her rescue with a mouthful of waffles. She flashed appreciative eyes in his direction. She would forever be grateful. He nodded in response.

"Oh my," Carole exclaimed as she clasped both hands over her mouth in genuine delight. "You're Rachel? Finn's Rachel?"

 _Finn's Rachel?_ Is that how they referred to her? Hmm… she could see herself getting used to it.

"I guess so," she chuckled, her nervous state still very present in her shaky, low voice. The silence from the older man sitting behind Carole was not helping her at all. There was this, and the fact that she was not familiar with her surroundings. Finn was also nowhere to be found.

Gosh, what were they talking about back there?

"I'm-I'm so sorry for the intrusion," she looked to the man—Mike, was it? She had to explain herself. With the way he was staring at her, she felt like she was before a jury in court. "I know you probably don't condone this type of behavior. Finn and I just lost track of time last night, hanging out," she made it a point to make this very clear. "Finn thought it was too late for me to go back home. N-nothing happened, if that's what you're worried a-about," was she good at acting human? She couldn't tell. The intimidation of all three eyes placed directly on her caused her to ramble further, "I w-would've left earlier this morning, but w-with the rain and all," she pointed to the window, watching the water continue to trickle down, losing her train of thought. She chuckled again, completely out of breath from all of the explaining. "You get the picture."

As she looked back to them, consumed in her daze, Toni's eyes were apologetic. It was as if they were saying, "I'm sorry buddy, can't dig you out of that hole." On the side of him, Mike's expression remained impassive.

"Oh, stop with all of that nonsense, darling. Don't be nervous over here. We don't bite," Carole assured her. There was too much irony in that phrase that Rachel fought the desire to burst into laughter. "You're welcome any time you'd like."

Like Percy, the woman startled her by gently grabbing her wrist. She wondered if it was a method of habit in the house. "Now, come. Not a single person leaves this home hungry and you look famished."

 _Nope,_ she thought. _It's just my dead-like skin tone._

Pulling out her former chair for Rachel to sit in, Carole grabbed the dirty dishes from her space at the counter. The familiar smell of maple syrup did something to her nose. "Get as comfortable as you can. I know these wooden chairs often make it hard for the other three to enjoy, but it's all we have at the moment." Rachel's heart broke a little, listening to her. She wished that she wouldn't speak that way. The home that she was witnessing was everything she used to dream of and more.

"I see you've already been acquainted with Toni." Carole spoke from the other side of the counter, placing the dishes in the washer. She only nodded, looking to the boy sitting two chairs from her.

"And Percy, as you can tell," she joked, referencing her appearance.

"Yeah, well, that Percy is something, I'll tell you that," the woman commented in her uplifting voice. "But we all love her, of course."

"How could you not?" she wondered.

"Rachel, this is my husband, Mike."

"It's nice to meet you, Sir," she decided to take a risk by extending her hand. At least he was polite enough, Rachel thought as he accepted the shake. But, something was off when he smiled at her. The smile didn't meet his eyes. It was almost as if this man was…lifeless.

"You too," he muttered, barely audible.

With this, he then abruptly rose from his chair, placed his dishes in the washer, pecked Carole on the cheek, and grabbed his set of keys before exiting into what she remembered to be a sitting area. That was where the entrance to the house was.

Carole must have noticed her looking down at her fingers. "I'm sorry if he rubbed you the wrong way, sweetheart. Mike was just running late for work this morning. I assure you that he's more sociable if you catch him at a better hour."

She nodded, feeling better by the assurance.

"Let me fix you a plate," she said after a few minutes. "I fixed waffles this morning, but we have a lot of stuff in the pantry if you want something else. Let me see," she walked over to the area filled with their food. "We have cereal, pop tarts, bread for toast…I also have tortilla wraps if you want a breakfast burrito. We have sausage, eggs, and cheese in the fridge. I think I also have ham…"

"Waffles are perfect," she smiled. Wow, she was so hospitable. She'd have to tell Emma to step up her game.

"Would you like anything to drink?"

Saving Carole the trouble of another listing, she replied as quickly as she could, "Do you have any coffee?"

"A fresh pot, hardly touched," she stated, seeming very excited to announce this news. "How would you like it?"

"Is there any honey flavoring?" she asked, craning her neck to watch the woman pour the hot and dark liquid into a mug. She always enjoyed watching Emma pour it in the morning.

"We do not," Carole seemed disappointed. "How's vanilla sound, instead?"

"That'll be perfect, actually," she replied, watching her find the little bottle in the fridge.

Placing both dishes before her, Rachel's nose did something again. Then, she realized what it was.

 _Home_ … What a beautiful fragrance.

After accepting the glass of orange juice that Carole offered, she took a tiny sip of her hot coffee and immediately sunk into her chair.

It was amazing, maybe even a little better than the honey. She wasn't sure. Both gave her warm, fuzzy feelings inside.

Grabbing her fork and knife, she devoured the waffles in front of her like any normal human would. They were delicious, much better than the taste of cardboard. Getting down to the last few bites, she decided she needed another swig of orange juice to make things look natural. Carole was eyeing her closely for a response to her cooking.

Amidst bringing the glass to her lips, the sound of an opening door flowed into the kitchen from the hallway. Then, two faces emerged, the feeling of relief falling heavy onto her chest. Percy and Finn.

"Well, it's about time," Carole called out, all attention completely stolen from her. "Finn, I was expecting you to walk out in your pajamas. You must be starving, both of you."

"Sorry," Rachel was surprised to see Percy looking at her as she spoke. "We just got carried away."

"So, everything's okay?" Toni asked. If she was not mistaken, she could have sworn that she saw a flicker of relief in his eyes, as well.

Everything's okay," Finn assured him, both of his hands tucked into the pockets of his blue jeans. And she seemed to believe it, whatever it was. The tension from before was now nonexistent.

Finn turned all of his attention onto her, then, a little taken aback by her appearance. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he smirked as he made his way in her direction. Sitting next to her, in Mike's abandoned chair, he leaned over and placed a soft kiss to her bare forehead. "You look really beautiful this morning, Berry."

"Thank you," she whispered. She didn't know how she felt, sharing an intimate moment in front of all these people.

"You scared the shit out of me," There it was. She knew that it was coming. She just hoped they would have at least a few moments of being cheesy. "I woke and you were gone. I thought someone took you."

"I'm really sorry about that, Finn," she cowered under the weight of her guilt. "I just couldn't sleep."

"I understand," he smiled, brushing a hand against her cheek. Jumping back, she had to remind herself that Finn's hands were kind, with no ill intent. Luckily, the other three were now involved in a conversation of their own, about grades, she thought she heard correctly. "I'm sure being tucked all the way in that tiny corner can get a bit uncomfortable."

"It wasn't that," she was really comfortable before she fell asleep. "It was my mind. I struggle with it a lot. It runs a little faster than my brain can handle sometimes."

She tried to play it off, wondering if she had successfully completed the impossible task of fooling him. The answer this time, like every other, was definitely not.

"Are you okay, Rachel?" he asked her, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"I'm perfect," she smiled. _I'm just trying to hide the fact that I spent most of the night fighting off my ex fiancé from drowning me…_

She wondered then, how that would sound in Carole's ears. She stopped immediately when she realized that she was digging herself way too deep, down in the pity hole.

"Just sitting here, chilling and drinking my coffee. These waffles are amazing, by the way," she smiled, holding up her mug.

"And what about these three?" he raised his voice so everyone could hear him. "I hope they didn't give you too much trouble."

As all eyes fell on her, she grew shy again. She didn't know why. "No way, your family is really great."

By the look on his face, he was more than pleased by her answer, ecstatic even.

"Well, I like her," Percy announced with the no-bullshit attitude that Rachel enjoyed so much. "She doesn't make me want to pluck my eyes out like Quinn did."

"Hey," Carole called, pointing her finger at the girl, "not nice!"

She only shrugged her shoulders as the guys laughed.

"You've found a very lovely girl, Finn," Toni added in a more sophisticated manner. "It's just too bad that she had to face the wrath of Mike on her first day here." Everyone, except for Carole, burst into laughter.

"Oh no," Finn looked at her, playfully pouting his lip like a puppy. "I'm sorry you were alone for that."

"That fucking sucks," Percy added.

"Persephone!" Carole shouted at her crude language. She guessed that she was the only one who was allowed to call her by her real name.

"Whoops," she covered her mouth, nearly causing Rachel to spit out her coffee.

"Well, we better get going or else we're all going to be late for school," Finn suddenly stood from his chair. Holding out his hand, she took it without question, rising to his side.

"You might have to help me around all day," she whispered in his ear, "unless you want to see me fall and bust my ass."

"Hmmm," he pretended to ponder.

"Wait, before you go, I need to ask Rachel something," Carole hurried around the counter.

"Oh my gosh," Finn shook his head. The other two laughed. Rachel was curious. What were they not telling her?

"Get over yourself, Finn," Percy rolled her eyes at Toni's side. "You knew it was going to happen when you decided to bring her over. "

"Ask me what?" Rachel looked around at all of them.

"I've been meaning to ask you and your family over for dinner for some time. I figured that I'd wait until I first met you," she smiled. "Does tonight sound okay?"

"Of course," she told the woman, grabbing both of the hands that she was extending out to her. "That is, if Finn hasn't gotten sick of me yet."

Looking up at him, she was surprised to find that he was already watching her. "How could that ever happen, Rachel Berry?"

"Does anyone else smell the cheese?" Percy blurted out again. "Because that was as cheesy as they come, Hudson."

"Shut up," he rolled his eyes at his sister.

"So, Rachel?" Carole ignored them, her eyes full of hope.

"Does seven sound okay?"

The woman clapped her hands together with excitement, "Seven sounds perfect."

"Great," somewhere deep down inside, she couldn't hide her own excitement. The morning had its ups and downs, and she didn't know how to feel about that. However, she could say that standing here with all of these people made her feel a little better. More so, she couldn't wait to see how she would feel when her own family was added to the mix. "We'll see you then."

* * *

 **I hope this really long chapter can make up for the fact that I've been absent for too long. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter. :) -Kat**


	25. Third Time's a Charm

**Chapter 24**

"Rachel, it's your turn," Mr. Spencer announced from his high horse on the other side of the classroom. This "high horse" included the security of a large wooden desk and a singular office chair, one in which he was too accustomed to slouching. So much so that Finn always wondered how this man's posture remained in tip-top shape.

She was nervous. He could tell this much since lunch. As the heavy storms and icy conditions of outside closed up all access to the courtyard, the cafeteria and gymnasium were all that remained. As they sat across from each other at the spacious round table, he watched her intently while using the end of her fork to play with the carrots on her plate. Hardly two words escaped her. And this was after Percy and Toni had joined them.

As for her family, Finn assumed that they would just integrate into the group once they found her. But sadly, he was mistaken. They noticed her, of course, even watched Rachel as she followed shortly behind in his footsteps. Still, no one budged.

Instead, two or three glances would be thrown each minute or so, followed with the resumption of whatever they were discussing.

Now, as the thunder rumbled around them like the almighty clash of Thor's hammer, Rachel made her way to the front of the classroom. She was using the thunder and the loud clap of Percy's high heels on her feet to disguise herself. Still, her face was white, and coming from someone who knew this girl like the back of his hand, Finn could see straight through the façade.

For this was no ordinary assignment that she was stumbling to the front of the class to present… No…It was their first final grade, before they were released for fall break and the infamous homecoming dance.

Mr. Spencer presented the memo to the class well over two weeks ago. It was an essay, of all things. But it wasn't one that would create instant boredom. It was an open-ended type of assignment. And maybe this was what Finn appreciated the most about it. In three pages, filled with writing, they were required to analyze their greatest fear. In addition, Mr. Spencer expected them to present these words in front of the entire class.

When each student, himself included, attempted to protest, he tried to use logic as a means of reasoning. He stated that this would strengthen their abilities in using their voices in the future. He also classified this as the ultimate get-to-know-you exercise. He assured everyone that by the end of the assignment, they'd see each other in a different light, as what they really were, human…

Hah, if only he knew that that wasn't really the case for some individuals…

They'd been practicing for it, him and Rachel. Within the comfort of their own big broken home in the middle of the forest, they sat in front of that same hot fireplace and red velvet sofa many nights, just discussing ideas.

Pen and notebook in hand, they jotted down things that seemed to make sense to them, never letting the other read it. It was in their personal time that they rehearsed aloud.

And, they were pretty confident about it. He knew this much the last time they discussed it, which was a few days ago. She told him that she had about a sentence left, just as he told her that he was already finished. Then, the ticking time bomb went off.

A colossal heap of revelations ensued. All of the collateral damage he had been struggling to shove underneath the surface—Camelia, the possible return of their stalker, the past—had come clawing back with full force.

Then, this assignment became the least of his worries as the majority of his brain scrambled, like eggs on a skillet.

This was what he was struggling with now, what he'd been struggling with all last night. The war raging in his head, the thoughts he'd been trying so hard to suppress around his love were ones of the harsh reality of his greed.

He was finally caught—in a web, like a deer in headlights—in his tremendous lies. And if he thought his guilt felt heavy in his chest before, it certainly didn't add up to the way that he was feeling now. A twister was spiraling within, one of many more emotions—grief, horror, anger, self- resentment… He could not believe that this was actually happening. There were so many steps that he could have taken. He could have been smarter, more honest, less selfish…

But the one feeling, more prominent than any other, sending that enormous tornado in his chest 'round, was sheer agony.

His world, a world he'd comprised together merely for the sake of his own need to keep her protected, was slowly beginning to crumble from its axis. Like a man trapped in a glass box under water, he was straining himself. Every question she asked, every new thing that popped up in front of them was yet another crack to the surface.

Spread across the small metaphorical space of the glass box, he was tiring himself, fighting so hard to cover each crack. A fight, that, no matter how long it went on, would never actually guarantee a victory. Further cracking would be the only thing to follow, before everything came shattering down.

This thought was what led him to make a decision, watching as a bolt of lightning outside lit Rachel's perfect skin, in contrast to the light blue jacket that she was wearing.

This beautiful creature in front of him, his beloved Amelia… She would be the receiving end. She was the person who would be hurt the most. Underneath the shattering glass walls, she'd be the person to drown in his deceptive waters.

He had to tell her.

Though his last two attempts at the truth were unsuccessful, this time it was crucial. The line was already drawn. He'd have to come clean, tell her everything before she heard it from someone else. At dinner, tonight, with all of her family around. Maybe it'd be easier for her to take it all in if it was this way. Maybe she'd come around to forgiving him sooner. Maybe he wouldn't lose her forever.

Because, that, as he'd found out a long time ago, was _his_ greatest fear.

As stated by Mr. Spencer before, she would be the last person to recite today. Then, during the next class period, Finn was lined up to go for fifth place.

Listening to her clear her throat, he couldn't help the excitement building within him. Of course, he'd gone through so many presentations, all expressing the usual like spiders, roaches, monsters, etc.… But, he just knew that her paper would be different, like every other spectacular thing that she did. There was also the fact that she insisted on keeping it all a secret from him.

He was nearly at the edge of his seat when she began to read.

Her voice was soft, but nowhere near shaky. It was as if some spell washed over her, looking down at the stapled bit of papers in her hands.

"We're humans, it's what we do. We fear things. In the eyes of the beholder, fear can either be the making or the breaking point. The source of adrenaline, the motivation that one person may be in need of to keep going... It could be really simple, or extremely complicated. Who knows? It's just a part of life, right?" She read, pausing frequently to build up the audience's reaction.

A group of teenagers behind him were ruining the experience of her performance. Huddled together in the very back corner of the room, they were being extraordinarily loud. So much so, he wondered how Mr. Spencer had yet to reprimand them. Surely, the whole class noticed. With every glance Rachel sunk further into her essay, but found it in her to continue speaking.

Who were these idiots?

Turning around, he assessed the four; two boys and two girls. Of course, he didn't know them. However, they looked familiar. They usually crowded the student section at every Friday night football game.

"What is Wednesday Addams afraid of?" The blonde girl joked.

"My guess is as good as yours," one of the guys chuckled.

"I say bats," the brunette girl added.

"She definitely raided her sister's closet," the blonde smirked, crossing her arms.

"No doubt," the other girl laughed.

"Look at little Ms. Cinderella," the other guy commented.

All four began to laugh in unison.

"Hey," he barked once he realized that they wouldn't let up. "Shut it, will you? You're being fucking obnoxious and some of us are actually trying to listen."

The group of four snickered, exchanging faces with one another. However, after a minute they were silent.

Turning back to Rachel, she showed him an appreciative smile.

"Continue, Rachel," Mr. Spencer instructed from behind the screen of his computer.

She nodded, turning back to the white sheets of paper in her hands. They were crumpled now with the nervous grip she held over them.

"I fear me." She stated blatantly, looking up. There was something different in the way she held her face, in the way her eyebrows were positioned above her eyes.

She was daring anyone in the classroom to make another remark.

He grinned to himself, a sense of pride surging deep within his chest. There was his warrior princess.

"The decisions that I make are sometimes pretty costly. It's like there's this girl within the inner walls of my brain, sitting in a control room, just going away with a million different buttons at a time." She stopped for a breath of air.

"My biggest enemy, she is. And it's not like I've never warned her or tried to regain my own power. Things just usually tend to go in the opposite direction of my intentions."

"For instance, I use to have a lot of friends and I was happy. Life was really great and then it just wasn't. I'd done or said the wrong thing and suddenly I was utterly repulsive to everyone, only inviting to loneliness."

"I fear that those same decisions will be made in my future. I'll expel the people that are in my life right now with my insoluble actions and I'll lose all over again."

"It's like I'm in a constant game of cards, yet I'm never the one dealing." She nodded. "Thank you."

A round of applause followed with Mr. Spencer's monotone voice. Finn wondered what was with their English teacher today. He was usually so cheery and upbeat, passionate about what he taught. Maybe sitting through readings weren't really his thing? The horrible weather outside may also have been to blame.

As the bell signaling the end of the period dinged throughout the room, Finn followed closely behind the group of students stammering out of the door.

Rachel was already out of sight, seeing as though she sat closer to the back of the classroom. He imagined her to be in the girl's bathroom, or ducking her head into her locker.

 _Those fucking dimwit teenagers,_ he thought. How dare they mess with her?

To his surprise, when he made it out of the door, he found her waiting for him. With arms crossed, she leaned against the wall, scanning every face. When her eyes met his, her face lit up, that beautiful smile brightening and warming his life like the sun that was missing from outside. And suddenly, his heart was liquid matter.

"So?" she asked after following him to his locker. He could tell that she was dancing on pins and needles to get his reaction. "What did you think?"

"Rachel," he smiled as if what he was about to say was the simplest thing he's ever spoken in his life. It truly was. "You captivated me from the moment you started to speak, just like every other time you've read. You're that gifted."

She beamed, throwing her arms around him. "You're my hero," she muttered into his chest. "You know that, right?"

"Fuck what those people think," he told her. "You're better than all of them."

His heart nearly broke when her big brown eyes looked up to meet his own. He could see right through that iron exterior that she put up for everyone around her. Though she'd never admit it, her feelings were hurt.

"I'm just happy that it's all over with," she admitted before losing all seriousness. "Now I get to sit back and watch you stumble."

"Oh, you'll definitely be able to count on it," he chuckled, placing a kiss to her bare forehead. He loved the fact that he could see her entire face with this new makeover that Percy gave her. Her beauty was immense, he'd never question this. And he really enjoyed her bangs. They were different and they helped with her new identity. Still, this look was her, Amelia, through and through.

He was a little taken aback this morning in the kitchen, walking in to find the image of the face he originally fell in love with.

Switching out his books for the final time today, she rested against the locker next to his. "Are you proud of me? I haven't slipped once today."

"And you made fun of me in the beginning for being an overachiever," he joked.

"I think Percy has a lot of confidence in me and my walking skills," she remarked. "You know, I was actually really nervous this morning about meeting your family and all. I even considered climbing out the window. But, I can see why you love them so much. They're amazing," she smiled up at him. He didn't think he'd ever seen her so lively about something. "I can't wait for tonight, honestly. I know for a fact that Percy and Olivia will get along."

 _Tonight…_ His stomach did a somersault.

Crap, it was so freaking easy for him to forget about all of the things plaguing him whenever she was in his presence.

His arms grew weak, nearly causing him to drop his book bag to the floor. Slamming his locker shut, he tried his best to liven up.

One more night, and then all the pretending would be over.

Just a little more time to see her this way: smiling at him like he wasn't a villain, talking to him like he wasn't really a liar, not avoiding him.

The thought of the change on its way nearly made him puke. How was he going to be able to do this to someone like her?

"You know what, why don't we get coffee after school?" he asked her. "We could definitely use it after the night we've had and maybe you could brief me on some of the things I need to tell Carole before your family arrives. I know she's really nervous."

"Sure," she agreed. Her shock by the last minute offer was definitely there on her face.

"Good," he took her hand as they headed towards History.

* * *

The smell was delightful, as coffee always was through his nostrils. It helped that the sweet yet tangy smell of blood clung to every breath of air around them.

Sitting at a small wooden table near one of the windows in the small, warm coffee shop, they watched as people ran through the downpour outside.

"It is so cold out there," Rachel whispered, both hands wrapped firmly around her large mug of decaf. "I feel bad for the ones without umbrellas."

"I'm sure their car heaters will compensate for their forgetfulness."

She laughed, "Thank you for taking me here. It's a nice distraction from everything."

He nodded in agreement, "Anything for my homecoming date."

She snorted, "I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."

"Forget about the most amazing night of our teenage lives? I would never." he mocked.

"That's prom," she corrected him with a smirk.

"So you'll be my date to that too?" he raised his brow.

"I walk myself into these traps, don't I?" she asked.

Before he could answer her, they were both distracted by someone hesitantly approaching their table.

It was Quinn. He didn't even have to look. He heard the two heartbeats before she could even take her last step.

The girl looked distraught, a complete mess. She was absolutely soaked. With the long blonde hair clinging to her face, her dress and coat clung to her body, making the baby bump more than noticeable. Shivering heavily, mascara streaked down her cheeks, causing most of the people in the shop to stare.

"Quinn?" Rachel jumped to her feet.

"Rachel," she could barely get out through her hyperventilation. "F-Finn…"

It was then that he realized he had two options. He could sit and watch her struggle, refusing to help. He could give in to the opportunity at creating a bruise as big as the one she'd initially left on his heart. Or, he could do the right thing, be chivalrous, and help the pregnant girl out, for Rachel.

He sighed, rising to his feet as well.

Shrugging Percy's blue jacket off of her shoulders and wrapping it securely around the blonde's body, Finn tried to follow Rachel. Taking off his letterman jacket, he placed it over her shoulders.

"Gosh, you're so cold," Rachel murmured, examining the girl's body temperature by the touch of a hand to her forehead. He assumed the last time they'd conversed, when Quinn hit Rachel, was completely forgotten. "Finn, can you stay with her? I'm going to get her some tea."

He nodded, watching her pull out her chair for the girl.

When she was gone, Quinn addressed him, "T-thank you."

It took less than a minute for Rachel to return with a yellow mug of steaming water, a tea bag, and a large blueberry muffin in her hands.

"Chamomile," she announced, placing the bag in the water before the blonde. "It will help calm your nerves. You're stressing. I can tell. It's not good for the baby."

He watched her, remembering the time Sarah suffered an awful beating by Nathaniel. Amelia tended to her more than her own mother could.

Though she claimed that she had given up on all humanity, that they were all nothing but scum, he knew she was wrong. She cared, even if she wasn't aware of the part of herself that did.

If they lived in a parallel universe where they could be together as humans, he knew that she would have made an amazing mother.

"Eat this," she instructed. "You skipped lunch didn't you?"

"I-I wasn't hungry," the girl stuttered, her voice barely a whisper.

"Well, you are now," Rachel assured her. "I can hear your stomach from a mile away."

"Thanks, both of you," she whispered after devouring the food in front of her. "I really appreciate it."

He only nodded as Rachel began another inquisition. "Now, can you tell us what is going on?"

"Y-you were right," her face scrunched up before falling into her palms. The loud sobs followed afterwards.

"Quinn, look at me," Rachel reached forward to place a hand against her arm, "What were we right about?"

"Him," her lip quivered as big tear drops rolled down her tired, emerald eyes, "he's bad, really, really bad."

Rachel and Finn looked to each other.

"What happened?" Finn figured he'd aid in getting all of the information they could out of Quinn.

"Can you tell us who _he_ is,yet?" Rachel asked her. He knew it was a shot in the dark, especially after last time. But, it was still worth asking.

She shook her head, more tears finding their way down her red cheeks. "It's still the same."

She coughed through her tears, "I should have listened to you when I was warned. I honestly thought you guys were crazy. I thought that I was falling in love with him..." she stopped.

"Quinn, you're shaking," Rachel observed.

"I'm so stupid." She sniffed, wiping at her mascara-blackened eyes. "He's a monster that followed me from the woods, nothing more."

"You're not stupid, okay?" He couldn't take it anymore. His heart ached too much to see her like this. "You were compelled."

"What?"

"It's like manipulation," Rachel jumped into the explanation. "It's one of our abilities. If we can catch a human's eyes with our own, we can place them in a stupor and persuade them to do anything that we please. That's why you can't tell us what you know about him."

"How can I stop it?" she pleaded with them. He could tell that she was terrified by this new bit of information.

Finn and Rachel looked to each other again.

"Percy keeps vervain in the back of her closet. We could give it to her." He told Rachel.

She nodded, turning back to Quinn. "We'll take care of it. Now, tell us what happened."

"Everything was fine this morning," she sighed, beginning with the recap. "My mom had to be to work extra early, so he cooked me breakfast and brought me to school."

Finn's fists clenched tightly at his side underneath the table. This guy was lurking in plain sight around them and they were looking more ignorant by the minute.

"Then, when he came to pick me up this afternoon, I could tell that he was in a mood. But, he didn't say anything mean to me. He just kept driving until we got to the middle of town. That's when I had to pee and I knew that I couldn't hold it. So, I asked him to stop and I ran into the grocery store over there." She pointed out the window.

"I was ready to go once I got out, but he was talking to this older man; the same one in the woods with him that night."

"With the gold eyes?" Rachel asked.

She nodded. "They were arguing about something, but I wasn't really paying attention so I don't know what it was about. He was really angry, shouting even. You should have seen him." She wiped at her eyes again.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I thought he would calm down when I told him that I was ready to go, but when I touched his shoulder, he turned around and growled at me." She cried. "His face… I saw his face change and…and it was even scarier than in the woods."

"He tried to apologize after that," she continued to stutter. "But I ran away before he could catch me."

"How did you know to come to us?" Finn asked her.

"I saw you through the window," she explained. "I thought I'd be safe with you guys."

"You are," Rachel nodded, placing a hand over her shaking one. "Call your mom, and tell her that you're going to be spending the night at Brittany's house. There's a really big test tomorrow and you want to prepare."

"Rachel, what are you doing?" Finn asked, watching her compel the girl.

"We can't just leave her out of our sight, Finn. It was a risk before. But now, it's not safe. I'll just talk to Emma and Will. She can spend the night in the guest room."

"What about dinner?" he asked, a little too selfishly. Still, she was his ex-girlfriend. That would not rub well with the others.

"Please?" she begged, and for some reason, he just couldn't refuse.

"Okay," he nodded. "I will talk to Carole."

The mere thought of tonight was worsening in his mind as time continued to tick.

* * *

They parted ways on the long road just before her large home. As the windshield wipers flipped back and forth, Rachel turned to him.

"It's going to be okay," she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. He'd forgotten that they had company in the back seat of the car.

How could she tell that he was in distress? He thought he'd been hiding it pretty well.

"We're going to be okay." She whispered again, placing her palm to his cheek.

Closing his eyes, his rested against her hand, "I really hope so."

That was the last thing he said before she offered him her temporary farewells. With a quick peck to his cheek, her side door was opening. Quinn offered him a shy goodbye wave in the process of it all, but he ignored her. He was no longer in the correct state of mind for fake chivalry.

Waiting for them to make it safely inside, he couldn't miss the way Rachel nervously looked back at him.

Worry flickered in her face for three seconds before she turned back towards the house. Her nature to nurture then took full effect as she wrapped her arm around Quinn and held the polka dotted umbrella over their heads. When the large door in the front of the house shut behind them, he let out a loud, lengthy breath he wasn't even aware he was holding in.

Percy and Toni were waiting for him when he returned. Fully dressed for tonight's event, they seemed just as enthusiastic as Rachel had been earlier today.

One thing was for sure. The air was thinner, more relaxed between them.

This was because of this morning. In the midst of his frantic search for Rachel, there was a knock at his door, Percy.

He remembered being appalled by her nonchalant swagger into his room, especially after all of the words that had been exchanged the previous day.

" _Good Morning, Sleeping Beauty," she called._

Toni and Percy were definitely more accustomed to early morning time than him. The fact that he only received four hours of sleep heightened his annoyance.

" _What are you doing?" he asked, his guard immediately rising to its full effect._

The time they spent away from each other couldn't make up for the anger that he still felt.

" _Can we talk?"_ All silliness fled her tone. Slowly perching herself at the end of his bed, she looked remorseful.

Would he condemn her, and send her running out of the room like she had? Or, would he listen to whatever she was about to say? Those were the two very difficult options to weigh out in his head.

Still, she was his un-biological sister. Even if their blood didn't run the same, she was the foundation of everything that he was today, the reason he was even able to meet Amelia in the first place.

" _Sure,"_ he whispered, rising from his bed. It was late and he had to get ready for school.

" _If you're looking for Rachel, she's in my room."_ She must have noticed his uneasiness.

He whipped his head around. _"What's she doing in there?"_

" _I found her first,"_ she smiled slightly, _"Like I always do with your overnight dates."_

He snorted, _"Well, you know that curiosity killed the cat."_

This seemed to silence her. When he turned around again, she was staring at her black heels. _"I wanted to apologize to you, Finn."_ She looked up, _"About yesterday. I wasn't myself."_

He didn't speak. He just continued to look for clothes.

" _I was wrong,"_ she admitted. _"The feeling was weighing down on me all night, but it really slapped me in the face this morning."_

" _You met her and you like her,"_ he assumed.

" _I love her,"_ she corrected him, _"Maybe even a little more than Amelia."_

He stilled at her words and he knew that she could tell. Tension grew deeper in the air around them.

" _I didn't mean it like that."_ She assured him. He could tell that she was nervously sorting through her brain, trying to find the right words to continue with.

" _What I said to you yesterday, Finn… I can't stop thinking about it."_ She cried. _"Of course, it's not your fault that Amelia was killed. I was just looking for leverage to make my words effective. I was being stupid." She sighed. "You know how I get when I get scared."_

" _You jump to conclusions,"_ he told her.

" _I worry,"_ she retaliated as sincerely as possible _, "about you, about Toni… You guys are all that I have left in this world. I hold you both so dearly. You know this. So, when you suggested that we stay behind, face danger head-on, I went into over-drive. I was scared_ _that history would repeat itself. I was scared that one of you would die because of your need to stay with this girl."_

" _Well, you're wrong."_ He knew that he was being stubborn.

She sighed again. _"I know. I realized that the moment that we started speaking. She's strong, Finn, and so different from Amelia. She can fend for herself, she has an attitude, and… and…"_

" _And?"_ he asked.

" _She's me in human form."_

" _You're wrong again."_

To hell with it, he thought. He couldn't take it anymore. There was already a mountain of things on his guilty conscious, a mountain of things that Rachel would be pissed at him for. What could telling Percy one little secret really do?

He was about to find out.

She stared at him, a little confused. _"What are you talking about?"_

" _She's not you,"_ he whispered, ignoring the hurt look that trailed across her face. _"And, she's not Rachel."_

Her inability to speak because of her confusion left the floor wide open for him to reveal everything. Good thing Toni was not here with them. He didn't feel like tending to a fainting vampire.

" _You said that you possibly like Rachel more than Amelia. Well, that's impossible."_ He paused, watching her face pale to a ghostly white. _"They're the same person."_

" _What?"_ Crap. She was mad.

" _Amelia is sitting in your room right now."_ He continued.

She held her hand up. _"You told us that she was dead."_

" _I lied to you."_

Betrayal showed next, _"Finn, I came in here like an idiot, willing to lay out my entire heart. You really made me feel like I was the bad guy, and then y—"_ he stopped her.

" _There's a reason for it,"_ he assured her.

" _Then go ahead, tell me. And, it better be a good one."_ She wasn't just angry. She was one step up.

" _She doesn't remember,"_ he continued, _"That night in the apothecary, they were dragging her away from me and I couldn't do anything to stop it. So, I compelled her to forget about all of us, all about me."_

" _This whole time, I thought that she was dead. I was so upset when I saw her because it made me think of Amelia and how much I missed her…"_

" _I thought she was dead, too, Percy."_ He told her. _"Trust me, I would have never dated Quinn if that weren't the case."_

" _So, if she doesn't remember us, then what exactly does she know?"_ Percy asked, crossing her arms.

" _She knows about me, my past, about you guys, her family life, Nathaniel's abuse, Sarah…"_ he went on. _"She pretty much covered up all the holes on her own."_

" _That's terrible, Finn."_ Percy frowned.

" _And the worst part is that half the things she remembers are false. She thinks Nathaniel was the one to call her 'princess'."_

" _You need to tell her."_ She whispered, stirring the large pot gathering in his chest.

" _I am,"_ he told her, _"Tonight."_

" _Good, the sooner the better, before things begin to build up."_

" _Oh, they already have,"_ he assured her.

" _Finn…"_ she sighed. _"What else are you hiding from us?"_

" _Last night, we were late because we were tending to a guest."_

" _What do you mean?"_ she stepped closer.

" _Camilia's back,"_ the moment he said it he set off a tea pot in her head. Percy was boiling, the steam practically visible rising from her ears.

With fists clenched tightly at her side, he breathing sped.

" _You're lying to me. Finn, please tell me that you are lying to me."_

" _I wish I could,"_ he sighed. _"But, I can't. And to make matters worse, Rachel thinks their friends."_

" _We have to tell Toni."_

" _We will, later,"_ he nodded. _"Right now I just want to focus on one task at a time. Now come on, we're going to be late."_

As he headed for the door, she grabbed his arm. _"Wait. Are things okay with us?"_

He'd gotten so caught up in their conversation, he almost forgot. _"Yeah."_

" _I'm really sorry, Finn, about everything."_

" _So am I,"_ he told her and he meant it. _"I love you, Perce."_

" _Love you too,"_ she wrapped him into a bear hug. And for the first time since dancing with Rachel last night, he physically felt a quarter of the weight on his chest lift.

* * *

Percy was the first to address him as he placed his book bag in its usual location.

"Your clothes for tonight are on your bed. You're welcome, "she smiled. Of course she prepared things for him before he even had the time to think about it. He smiled, playfully rolling his eyes.

"Thanks," he headed toward the back. A very hot shower was definitely on his mind. His entire back was soaked from the spot that his umbrella did not cover and his fingers were still tingly from the freezing atmosphere. After all this time, he wondered how the sky still held enough water to cover the small town.

It would darken soon outside. Hopefully that would calm things a bit.

To Finn's surprise, the two followed him into his room. Collecting the white dress shirt, navy blue sweater, and khaki slacks, he ignored the two climbing on his bed.

"You know, you're going to have to spill the beans soon, Finn." Percy smirked, "Why were you late?"

"She's right," Toni commented.

"It's a book-full," he told them. "Give me a minute and I'll try to sum it all up."

Locking the bathroom door behind him, he headed towards the sink. Gripping the edges of the counter, he examined his face in the mirror.

His stomach was hurting. His confidence was withering away with daylight.

When would he pull the plug? When would he find the time to get her alone and ruin everything between them?

How would he do it? Would he ease into the matter? Or would he turn into a blabbering mess, blurting out everything?

Most importantly, he tried to imagine how she would take it. Would there be physical harm involved? Would she slap him, punch him, throw him into a wall? Would the entire dinner party be dragged into the mess? Would she make a scene? Or would she quietly leave?

Was there a possibility that she would stay, that she could try to understand the words he told her? Could they talk things out?

His head grew dizzy contemplating the different possibilities. Stepping under the hot waterfall of the shower, he tried to ease his mind. He had to think of something else. But how could he? She was always the one thought that filled his mind.

Ah, he knew the perfect thought to distract himself.

Last night, he watched her sleep for some time before his eyes grew too droopy. And, it was like being the first person to witness an angel. She was so beautiful, so young…

With her face relaxed, she looked free. Her breathing was easy, with long eyelashes covering her cheeks like a halo of innocence. All worry and dread was stripped clean from her features, all the creases in her face erased.

Oh, how much his heart hurt in this moment, thinking of all that was to come. He felt like a murderer on the night before his execution. He loved this girl with everything inside of him. Without her, he was a walking and breathing mixture of nothing.

They were still waiting on his bed when he emerged fully dressed.

"Don't you look fresh?" Percy smiled. "Once again, you're welcome."

Toni laughed, shaking his head with amusement.

He smiled, making his way to his collection of colognes.

"Are you ready to discuss everything?" Toni asked.

He turned around, a bit shocked.

Percy just sat still, looking at him sheepishly. She'd briefed Toni on everything that they'd spoken of this morning. He was sure of it.

He wanted to be mad, but he wasn't. And he could tell that Toni felt the same way. He needed to know, and he was thankful that Percy took it upon herself to tell him. It was one less thing that he had to worry about.

He took the next hour or so to catch them up on everything, not missing a single beat. He told them about Amelia, about everything she knew and didn't, about what he was planning for tonight. He also briefed them on Camelia's return, her flirtatious gestures, the unexpected sighting of the stalker… He even informed them on Quinn's condition. He told them about the night that she witnessed the deaths and the three vampires… Most importantly, he spoke of the person compelling her from behind the curtains.

They were shocked, tongue-tied even. But after a while, Toni took initiative like he was always known for doing.

They were in the midst of comprising different plans to carry out when Carole knocked on the door.

Her short hair was curled and her face was painted to perfection. The blue in her dress brought out the blue in her eyes as her heels made her stand even taller. She looked really pretty.

"Oh good, all of you are ready." She was delighted. "I thought I would have to fuss."

"Us?" Percy asked, pretending to be taken aback. "You could never. We're angels!"

She rolled her eyes before smiling at the trio, "I just got off the phone with Mrs. Schuester. We should be expecting them within another hour or so. Also, we have one additional dinner guest." She looked to Finn.

He told the other two about Quinn, but he forgot to let her know. Crap.

He nodded as she smiled and closed the door behind her.

"So," Percy turned back to face Finn. "When are you going to tell her?"

"After dinner," he told himself more than them. This would give her enough time for a pleasurable evening with everyone else. If things took a turn for the worse, the event would already be close to finishing. "It'll give me enough time to work out what I'm going to be saying to her."

"You could just compel her to remember everything," Toni suggested, "Avoid all of the extra drama."

He immediately shut it down. "I want to tell her first, apologize for everything."

"What if she doesn't believe you?" Percy asked.

He'd never thought of that.

"Then I'll have to show her." He decided, "Give her back all of her memories."

"Well, whatever happens after tonight, you still have us." Percy reached for his arm.

"Yes," Toni joined in. "We're here for you, buddy."

"Thanks," he smiled at them, though his insides felt like hot lava.

They stayed with him for about another ten minutes. Then, their own agendas had come calling. Percy had to finish straightening her hair, while Toni decided he needed a different tie.

This left him alone with World War III raging in his head. Walking over to his closet, he pulled out his duffle bag from practice.

It took a few pushes and shoves with his arm, but once he got through all of the dirty gym clothes inside, he found what he wanted.

Standing in the tight doorway of the space, he looked down at the rusted picture. She looked so elegant smiling up at him with her pretty dress and the gigantic diamond necklace wrapped around her neck nearly choking her.

He decided to snag it from his locker for just one day. This picture gave him all of the luck in the world, for everything. Having it in his hands again made him feel much better.

Moving over to his bed with it securely in his hands, he thought of how he'd first gotten it.

During one of their secret meetings, Amelia slipped it to him as a gift. He wasn't supposed to have it, but she insisted. Stealing it from Nathaniel's study gave her nothing but joy, and he loved to see that big beautiful smile on her face, so he accepted it.

A soft knock to the door sent him jumping. Sitting on the photo, he watched as Carole poked her head in the door. "They're here."

"Okay," he nodded. "I'm coming."

Once he got up, he decided not to fret anymore. He wanted to enjoy what could possibly be the last few happy moments he had with her.

Walking out of his room and into their sitting space, he found the scene before him so majestic. It was like he was witnessing Olympus for the first time. The small setting of the room did the group of _Moderns_ no justice. Like stars, they stood out. Around the human bodies of Mike and Carole, their pale faces were marvelous, just as their scent.

His nose tried desperately to find Rachel's, one he was able to detect in his sleep. Yet, something was off.

Looking around the room, he found the reason why. Standing behind the magnificent six, Rachel stood perfectly still, holding Quinn's hand in her own. By standing so close together, the human girl was masking her smell.

The moment he took her into his full line of vision, he was completely gutted. It was to the point where he almost didn't recognize her… them.

In a dress flooded with pink flowers, her long dark curls fell to her midsection as a sparkly pink headband held her bangs back out of her face. Standing taller than usual, he noticed another pair of tall heels under her feet. Another shocking detail, she sported bright red lipstick on her lips.

Quinn's outfit, on the other hand, was a little more inside of her ballpark. Still, he could definitely see the transformation from the soggy hair and mascara stained cheeks she wore earlier this afternoon. In a soft green dress, her light blonde hair was tied into a high ponytail as she wore black flats.

Standing next to each other, they looked fierce, like the best of friends, like legends… Thelma and Louis, Betty Cooper and Veronica Lodge... B and V…

He didn't know how to feel about it.

When Rachel spotted him through the chaos surrounding them, she slowly made her way toward him. Quinn followed in tow.

"Hi," she smiled shyly up at him as the blonde hid behind her. He could tell that Rachel knew he was observing her new appearance.

"Rachel Berry in a dress," he mocked. "I didn't think I'd live to see the day."

"Olivia was jealous," she chuckled. "She didn't really appreciate the fact that I let your sister play Barbie with me first."

"Hi Finn," Quinn croaked nervously. Her voice was gone. He assumed it was from another few sobbing rounds at Rachel's house after he'd left. "If this doesn't sound too inappropriate, you look dashing tonight."

About a million cruel retaliations rose in his mind, but Rachel's glare of warning in his direction warded all of them off. Instead, he stood a little taller and offered the girl a slight nod.

"Thanks, so do you." He looked to Rachel, "both of you."

See, he was putting in some type of effort.

"Well, thank you, Mr. Handsome blue sweater." Rachel spoke up, moving forward to pull him into a hug. Quinn took this opportunity to make a run for it. Returning to the others, he didn't miss how she immediately clung to Emma's side. The woman did nothing short of welcome her.

"Who do you think picked it out?" he whispered against her hair, forgetting everything else and returning to the moment they were sharing.

Before she could speak again, they were rudely interrupted. "And you're welcome again, for the third time in a row." Percy appeared from behind them, "Hey, Rachel."

"Oh my gosh, hey," she smiled, moving away from him to hug the other girl. "I have your clothes and shoes in the car, by the way. Thanks for letting me borrow them for the day."

"Are you kidding me?" she pulled away. "They're yours now. I don't want them back."

She was speechless, he could tell. "Thank you."

Percy only nodded, looking to Finn. Her sorrowful glance made him turn away. A giant lump began to form in his throat as this sent him a painful reminder of reality.

"I see you brought a friend," Percy made an attempt to distract Rachel. She sent him an apologetic smile. He knew she didn't mean to cause that sort of reaction from him.

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, as they all looked to the Quinn. "Actually, that reminds me…" She pulled him closer to her side then. Whatever she was about to say was really important. "Finn, she's been getting the same call from the same unknown number all afternoon. I had to disable her GPS and turn her phone off."

"You didn't try to answer?" he asked. By then, Percy had gotten the hint and moved to the other side of the room.

"I did but the line went dead." She told him. "He must recognize her voice. I figured I'd get the same response over and over again if it kept answering."

"You made the right choice." He assured her, rubbing her arm as worry began to etch itself upon her beautiful face. Just like this afternoon, he hated the feeling inside of him whenever she looked this way.

"I hope so," she said as they both looked back to the blonde, being a wallflower while everyone conversed around her. "I'm really worried about her, though. She's been crying all afternoon and Finn; she's barely eaten since that muffin. That can't be healthy, right?"

He sighed. There were already so many things that he was juggling on his plate right now. Did he care enough to add this?

Placing a hand to her cheek, he gave her a reassuring smile. "We'll try to get some more food into her at dinner. And the rest we can discuss later, okay?"

She nodded in acceptance, "Thank you."

"Just know that I'm not doing it for her." She nodded in acceptance once more.

* * *

Gathering around the dinner table seemed to be a successful ordeal. As he'd predicted before, their two families intertwined naturally. Emma and Carole conversed nonstop about work, gardening tools, furniture, you name it. The miraculous age difference seemed to be no problem for the two women. Before and after each sip of red wine, the smiles on their faces were never lost.

Will and Mike were of a similar nature. Though their differences were immense, it seemed as if their personalities were constructed to complement each other. Will's mastery in understanding and patience made it more than easy for him to tolerate Mike's sourness. The man also spoke with a soft voice, never losing interest or eye contact. He listened to every word a person spoke, so Finn knew that the stern side of Mike would come to appreciate this. It also helped that they held the same political views. Blabbering about this most of the time, they only touched on the weather briefly.

The teens around him seemed to do things a little differently. They separated on terms of social grouping at school. For instance, Sam, Elliot, and Toni formed a triangle to discuss sports while Santana and Quinn talked about cheer routines and coach Sue Sylvester. Quinn had been kicked off the team due to her pregnancy. But by the look on her face, he could tell that she missed it.

Olivia and Percy sat all the way on the opposite end of the table, just going to town talking about a whole lot of things. He almost laughed to himself. Sometimes his sister could be such a tomboy and then on other occasions she could be the most feminine girl he'd ever met. At this moment, she was the latter. They were gushing over designer clothing items that Olivia possessed, and what colors worked best with their hair and skin tones. He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard Olivia invite Percy over to play fashion show in her closet.

The atmosphere around them was of nothing negative. They were all smiles, and deep conversations, and laughter. So much so, it made him question what was going on earlier. The others, they were so hesitant to join their group at lunch… What had changed?

Maybe they were a little intimidated, or anxious?

He looked to Rachel just in time for her to look up at him. Gosh, his heart skipped about ten beats. How was it that every time he took in this girl it was like catching a glimpse for the very first time?

She was absolutely breathtaking.

"You're going to have to help me with this fake-eating thing." She whispered in his ear. Toni must have been listening with his supernatural powers, as well as Santana. Amused grins appeared on both of their faces. "I think I looked a bit strange doing it this morning."

"Fear not, little one," he smirked, "You're in expert hands."

It was her turn to smirk, but he wasn't sure of the reasoning. That was, until she leaned forward, close enough that her breath tickled his earlobe. "I was actually hoping for that after dinner."

He gulped heavily looking into her dark seductive eyes. His dead heart began to race. Gosh, he hoped they weren't still listening.

"Maybe we can begin things from where we left off last time," she bit her lip, reminding him of their little rendezvous on the red sofa that one day before Will called her phone.

Thoughts of heavy breathing and black French lace filled his mind. And suddenly, his chest grew heavier.

 _The things I have in store for you, Ms. Berry…_ He thought then, torturing himself all over again.

Though he caught himself looking down the rabbit hole, he found a way to play it off while keeping his composure perfectly intact. Winking at her, he picked up his fork. "I think it's time we play human. Just follow me exactly, okay?"

She nodded, grabbing her silverware.

As he began to scoop the peas off of his plate, he turned his attention back to the others around him.

"…the flooring could also use some polishing, or maybe total reconstruction. What do you think Mike?"

The man nodded at Carole as they chewed their food.

"Nonsense," Emma burst out with her lively voice. "This little place is so perfect."

She took another sip of her wine. They seemed to be really good with fake-eating. It seemed like each of the seven were focusing on keeping up with their counterpart. He was Rachel's.

"In fact, at first when it was just Will and I, I basically begged for a house that looked exactly like this one."

"She's a relentless one," Will joked with them, cutting his steak. A round of laughter erupted through the air.

Emma rolled her eyes at her husband, "Our family just grew larger."

"And what a wonderful family you both have," Carole smiled. "So well mannered… I hope you don't think I'm interrogating if I ask your story. How you found all of these lovely children? You're both so young."

Emma smiled at her, "I admire your fascination."

The ginger continued in her soft, elegant voice. "We were high school sweethearts, Will and I. Back in Seattle, was it?" she asked.

Will nodded.

"My dad was in the army, so my family traveled around a lot." Emma informed them. "I guess I sort of developed those tendencies from him. I enjoy seeing different parts of the states after so much time."

She continued, "We met in the 9th grade, I think it was. I was his math tutor, and things just sort of went from there."

"She fixed my grades and my heart," Will smiled. "How does that sound?"

Carole smiled, so wrapped up in their story. Finn knew that it was false. Even Rachel wasn't sure on how the two met each other. She said she heard something about Will finding her in a crowd of bodies one time, but that was it.

"Anyways, we married after graduation and a few years down the road we decided that we wanted to expand our family. Unfortunately, my genes cursed me. I was devastated when the doctors told me that I was unable to bear children."

"We moped around for a little while, but then I realized that sometimes you have to take charge. I was so busy waiting for a family to come to me. I didn't realize that I could go out and find one. That's when we went out and found our perfect five."

"That's really inspiring," Carole nodded. "You know, Mike and I faced issues pretty similar to yours…"

"We-we don't need to get into that," Mike whispered, suddenly embarrassed. Will stayed silent while Emma only watched them with understanding eyes.

Carole sighed, returning to her glass of wine. After a while, she spoke again. "I thank my luckiest stars that these three found us. I don't know what I'd do without them."

Finn smiled at his mother, knowing deep down that it was the exact same way for him.

Soon enough, conversation shifted once again. As the grownups began to discuss the news and wild animals found in the woods, Finn turned back to Rachel.

She had done an extraordinary job. With a slice of bread, she was now wiping the extra mashed potatoes off of her plate and into her mouth.

"Well someone was hungry," he smiled.

"Ravenous," she smirked, but then became serious again. "I just wish I could say the same for others."

He turned to Quinn, knowing exactly who Rachel's focus was on. The girl was pushing around her peas with the tip of her fork. Her glass of water barely touched.

"Hey, Q," he called, immediately getting the girls attention a little ways down the dining table.

Catching her eyes with his, he spoke one word and she immediately fell into action, "Eat."

Turning back to Rachel, he smiled, though she was less than thrilled with what he'd just done. "Abracadabra."

"You can't do things like that, Finn," she sighed. "She's already vulnerable enough… She shouldn't be forced."

"Relax, Rachel," he rolled his eyes. "It was just one meal. I'm sure she's going to scarf down desert."

He was right. As Carole carried out a freshly baked cherry pie, Quinn stared longingly at it, like she had been on some stranded island for years and was just now seeing a slice of bread for the first time. The minute the warm slice of pastry hit her plate, she was lost in it.

* * *

Once dinner was complete, Emma offered to help with cleaning up but Carole refused. This left everyone to prepare to gather back in the sitting area for coffee.

They decided to stay behind at the dining table, away from the rest. It was when Rachel began laughing at one of his jokes that he felt it. He knew it was time.

"Rach," he said after she'd calmed down. "I need to talk to you about something."

The moment her face dropped, everything came crashing back like a tsunami. Fear, sorrow, resentment, agony… Gosh, he couldn't take this.

She was waiting—patiently, might he add—for him to shatter that protective guard that she was beginning to let down and shred any form of trust she'd developed for him.

The more he thought about it, the more he was sure that this would be it; that they were never going to come back from this blow.

He started, "I was starting to tell things to you before Camilia walked in, and then again in the car when our stalker showed up out of nowhere..."

"Go ahead," she smiled encouragingly, placing a hand over his. "You know that you can tell me anything."

He assumed that the reason she said this was because his emotions were probably sprawled out across his face. Not because the universe was conspiring against him…

"I-I…"

"Rachel," Quinn walked in.

Damnit!

Rachel immediately let go of his hand, turning towards the pregnant teenager. Finn ran two frustrated hands through his hair before doing the same.

"Yes?" he asked, even if she wasn't speaking to him.

What on earth was important enough to interrupt this?

"Mrs. Schuester told me to inform you that we're going to be heading out in about ten minutes. She has an early morning tomorrow."

"Okay," Rachel smiled, "Thank you."

He thought it was over, but she just continued to linger.

"Is that all?" he asked.

"Um, no, I was actually wondering if I could get some of that stuff that you guys were whispering about earlier. Vervain, I think you called it." Her voice was still hoarse.

He looked to Rachel, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to stall another moment. He wanted the cat to be out of the bag. She seemed to sense this.

"Go," she instructed, "Help her."

"But I have to talk to you." He pushed.

"It can wait," she assured him. "I actually think I left my socks in your room last night, so while you go do that, I'll go look for them. When you get out, I'll be right back here waiting and we can talk for as long as you'd like."

"Okay, fine," he nodded, as they both rose from the table. Offering Rachel a quick peck against her temple, he threw in the towel and led Quinn into Percy's room.

Moving to the back of the closet, he couldn't help but notice how she looked around with curiosity. "It's changed a lot since the last time I've been in here." She whispered.

"Yeah, well, you know how innovative Percy is," he replied.

She nodded to herself, sorrow heavy in her eyes. She was really upset about her downfall with the stranger.

Reaching for the shelf above all of the clothes, Finn found Percy's secret stash without difficulty. Pulling down the brown wooden box, he took the key connected and turned the lock.

"Pick one," he told her as he presented her with all of the jewelry Percy had laced with vervain over time. Most of it was stolen from royals.

Quinn's eyeballs went wide, scanning the collection. He knew that any girl would enjoy this. Most of the treasures held at least one small diamond on them.

"This," she smiled, picking one up with her tiny hand. It was a chained necklace with three single pink diamonds connected at the end.

He nodded, shutting the box. Locking it, he returned it to its rightful place.

"How does it work?" she asked, examining it in her hands.

Taking it from her, he unclasped the latch and locked it on her neck for her. "The herb is infused into these diamonds," he pointed once she turned back around to face him. "As long as this necklace is touching your skin, it prevents any vampire from controlling your mind."

"Thank you, Finn," she couldn't take her eyes off of her new old necklace.

"Can we get back?" he asked anxiously. He really needed to get back to Rachel before they left.

"Wait," she grabbed his arm. He sighed, turning to look at her.

She let go before she spoke again, "It would be too selfish of me to ask for your forgiveness again." She told him. "Especially after all of the things I've done. But, I just want you to know something."

"What?" he asked.

"You have no idea how appreciative I am of you guys," she told him. "You and Rachel… I was a little skeptical about it at first for obvious reasons. Of course, I was jealous… But now," she shook her head. "I'm really happy that you've found someone who makes you happy. And I just want to say that even though I know you are still hesitant around me and probably still hate me for all the things that I've done to you in the past, I'm incredibly grateful. You've helped me a lot, Finn, even when you really don't have to." She smiled up at him.

"I know this is a long shot," she added, "but I was hoping that we could maybe work our way back to being friends again. However long that takes."

"Maybe," he told her. He wasn't expecting all of that to come from her. Was he starting to feel guilty for the way he'd been acting? Ah, his mind was in shambles. He couldn't think about all of this right now. "Thank you, Quinn. I'll have to think about it."

She nodded, "Understood. Take all of the time you need."

* * *

As they made their way back into the dining room, he was taken aback. As Quinn made her way back to the others, he looked around the room. The empty room…

She wasn't where she said she would be.

Walking into the sitting room with the others, he assumed she'd be in there. However, as his search came up empty, he grew more concerned.

"Have you guys seen Rachel?" he asked.

Most of them shook their head.

"No, but if you see her, tell her that we are ready to head back home," Will called out.

No, no, no… They needed to talk. He ran another hand through his hair.

"Okay, Finn…" he whispered to himself once he was back in the dining room. "Don't freak out. She's probably still looking for her socks."

Making his way back to his room, he tried to listen closely for possible rummaging. Still, nothing. All he could pick up on was last minute conversation being shared at the front of the house.

Turning the knob and pushing the door in, his heart didn't just drop to his toes at what he found. The remnants of his former self fell to the floor and completely shattered before him.

The room was empty, his drapes flowing viciously against the arctic wind seeping in through the opened window, his floor and any nearby furniture soaking from the droplets of rain falling in.

As his knees grew too weak to hold him up, he fell forward. The pain of the impact didn't even matter to him. He didn't have enough energy to care.

He just stared blankly ahead, all at once noticing the mistakes he'd made which had gotten him to this point. Everything was in the simple black and white photo of her, now lying face down on the floor before him.

"Shit!" he screamed, picking it up.

All that he'd feared was now a reality. What was worse, she didn't hear anything from him.

She heard it all from the single fucking photo of her that he'd forgotten to pick up after Carole poked her head into the room earlier this evening.

She was gone.

They were doomed.

All because of one fucking photo.

Fuck!


	26. AN

Hello to all,

Let me start by saying that this note is only a _temporary_ one _._ I'll be deleting it after I get things settled.

With that being said, there are many things that I felt needed to be addressed and explained. And, I guess this is me being real with you guys, raw, instead of just carrying on with no hint as to what the hell happened...

First and foremost, what is probably troubling all of you the most, my extended absence from this story...

I'm evil. I know this. Seriously, what kind of author just up and leaves after dropping such an enormous cliffhanger, right?

Of course, this was nowhere in my original plan.

I had so many different plot ideas that I wanted to incorporate, so many little things that I would jot down on sticky notes in my free time. I'd be so many more chapters in if things had gone the way I expected.

But, as i'm sure some of you probably know, when devastation strikes, it really doesn't consider timing and little insignificant things like my aspirations for online writing...

Without getting too personal, my father, who I am extremely close with, was recently diagnosed with a very rare and tremendously scary health condition. In addition, this has, and probably will continue to entail so many stressful things for my family and I.

Countless surgeries, doctors visits, etc...Our lives have been more than changed.

Dwelling in such a dark, melancholic state for the past couple of months, i've quite literally become lost.

With work, as well as college taking up alot of my time, my interests have slowly begun to fade away.

I'm not going to lie to you guys. From the last time i posted (not exactly sure when.. Sometime in August?) to like November and a couple of days in December, I've sat in front of this same laptop, typed out almost 2,000 words each time and then deleted all of it. Writer's block: the pesky little thing that comes to one when their minds are 100 percent elsewhere. I've never had it this bad and to be honest, it's been scaring the crap out of me. I've never been so critical of myself.

In turn, this has led me to think about a lot things in my life, especially during these past couple of weeks. And here's what I've decided...

First, I want to make sure that everyone is assured of the fact that this story will **NOT** be deleted or discontinued. I've put so much work into it thus far, and plan to put in so much more. Nor will it be fair to any of you who I've left waiting for soooo freaking long (my sincerest apologies are still not enough to encompass how guilty I truly feel).

Instead, I've realized that in order to completely regain the focus required in continuing to write these chapters, I need to go back to the very beginning. (Learning about America's period of Reconstruction in my History class has sort of influenced my decisions).

As delusional as it may sound, I feel as though my page needs a bit of reconstructing of its own.

When I first started Fan fiction, I was young. At fifteen years old, I was so in love with _Glee_ and so completely ecstatic at the fact that I had discovered a way to take the characters that I admire so much and portray them with the help of my own imagination. More so, it was a way for me to process the loss of Cory, and to keep the memory of Finn alive in my head.

Never in a million years did I think that it would influence my career choices.

In graduating from high school and taking on college as an English major, I feel as though i'm someone completely different from the girl that I was when I started this whole journey. My knowledge has branched further out, I've been acquainted with more literary works and concepts, my vocabulary has slowly, but surely expanded. Disclaimer: In no way am I stating that I am perfect at anything. In fact, it's the complete opposite.

I'm recognizing the fact that I've grown a little more as a writer with each year that has passed since I first started, and I really want to be able to share that with you guys. Re-reading my old stories feels like looking at old photos (so incredibly cringey).

So, to come to a concluding point, i'm simply asking for support as I go back to each of my stories, back to _All These Memories, You're My Rock, Just Friends, I Do, Not,_ and even this one... to start over, not changing the content as much as the way it is written.

To reimagine each of them, more so... To write as the 20 year old woman I am now, the author who sees writing, not just as a leisure activity, but as an option in her bright future.

You are all welcomed to follow along with me and reread as I update if you want... and once im finished, I promise to continue where I left off, to give you all the answers you have been craving and deserve.

I'm so sorry that all of this is so unexpected.. Life is just that unkind sometimes.. I'm sure most of you can relate in one way or another...

In return, all I ask is that there please, please be no negativity toward me or my decisions. I'm really trying my hardest.

Just think of this as a tiny hiatus... and look forward to all that is in store for the future!

Thank you so, so much. For everything.

-K


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